An Uneasy Marriage
by Kara Wild
Summary: Jake joins Helen's art class to break up a potential liason between her and her art instructor. But he soon learns that may not be the greatest danger to their marriage.


"Daria" is owned and copyrighted by MTV. All rights reserved. This is **not** an episode, but the best imitation of an episode that I could write. Thanks to the creators of "Daria" for providing so much rich material for fanfics.... 

This is [or should be] the seventeenth episode of The Driven Wild Universe and my nineteenth overall. It follows 

  1. "Rose-Colored Lenses," 
  2. "The Tie That Chokes," 
  3. "That Thing You Say," 
  4. "'Shipped Out," 
  5. "Andrea Speaks!", 
  6. "Cheered Down," 
  7. "None in the Family, Part One," 
  8. "None in the Family, Part Two," 
  9. "Outvoted," 
  10. "Of Absolute Value," 
  11. "Breaking the Mold," 
  12. "Surreal World," 
  13. "Erin the Head," 
  14. "Primarily Color," 
  15. "The Age of Cynicism," and 
  16. "Charge of the Math Brigade."

Let me say that this fic was conceived, from start to finish, long before the Season Four finale, "Dye! Dye! My Darling," so any resemblance between the two is purely coincidental. However, I couldn't resist making a few pointed allusions to DDMD, as you'll see. ; >

Also, it's important that you know that this fanfic, as well as the next few DWUs -- if not the rest of the series -- occur as though "Fire!", "Dye! Dye! My Darling," and "Is It Fall Yet?" have not yet taken place. I will go into my reasons in detail in the postscript.

I would give this one a 3S...

Yes, gut-wrenching relationship episodes require a lot of space! Well actually, I think my fics are somehow expanding at an astronomical rate and I'm powerless to stop them. Eh shrug That said.......... Enjoy!!

**Ten Spot Promo:** A guy lies sprawled across the bed, his feet in the foreground, which a clock on screen counts to ten. That's it. Thrilling, eh?

[intro theme music...................]

# AN UNEASY MARRIAGE

_by_

## Kara Wild

* * *

**ACT ONE**

SCENE 1 (_Supermarket, weekday evening_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Jake standing in front of a freezer with his shopping cart in front of him. He's staring at two nearly identical packages and frowning. In the cart, we see several of the same packages piled up, along with an assortment of feminine products.)

**JAKE:** (_to himself_) Lasagna with fifty percent less fat, or lasagna with fifty percent less cheese? Hmmmm... it's so tough to decide. (_Suddenly, from off screen, we hear a loud crashing sound._) Eap!

(He accidently swats both boxes into the cart. Just then, a can rolls up against his heel. When Jake takes a step to turn around, he trips over the can and falls against the freezer doors. He slides to the ground and grabs the can in a rage.)

**JAKE:** (_shaking it_) Goddamn **lousy** creamed corn!! Just for that, you're going over my **peas** tonight!! (tosses the can at the cart. The can misses and flies off screen, which causes Jake to get a depressed look on his face.) Lousy goddamn life...

**VOICE:** (_loud and angry, from off screen_) STUPID lousy can PYRAMIDS!! **Why** do they always have to be built like **DEATH** TRAPS?!!

(Cut to shot of Mr. DeMartino standing over a crumpled pile of cans, shaking a fist menacingly. In his shopping cart, we see a lone can of tuna fish and a box of corn meal.)

**DeMARTINO:** (_gritting his teeth_) "Three cans for a dollar" TEMPTING me to buy, knowing that I make minimum **wage** as a SLAVE to the lousy **school** system, all along KNOWING that I was gonna make them fall over an' look like an IDIOT!!

(An employee, whom we recognize as the ever-paranoid Artie from assorted "Daria" episodes, rushes over to the disaster scene.)

**ARTIE:** (_squeaky voice_) Hey Mister, you'd better, like, clean this mess up or else my manager, he'll, like, get really mad at you an' maybe take it out on me 'cause I have this weird tendency to get fired from stuff. So --

**DeMARTINO:** GrrrrRRRRRRRR! (_His left eye bulges to greater proportions than usual._)

**ARTIE:** AGH! You're one of **them**! (_cowers, stumbles away._) One of those horrific ALIENS! They've found me, oh God they've **found** me! (_runs away off screen._)

**DeMARTINO:** (_growling to himself_) Great, so I've gone from being a disgruntled PATRON to a goddamn ALIEN! The PERFECT end to a perfect DAY!

(_Just then Jake rolls his cart on screen._)

**JAKE:** Hey, you're my kids' teacher, right?? Mr. D... (_struggles to think._)

**DeMARTINO:** (_resisting his overtures_) Oh that's all **right**, Mr. Morgendorffer -- my name's not **important** enough to remember. Never MIND that you and I have had our share of **booze**-clouded converSATIONS over at McGrundy's pub.

**JAKE:** Oh **yeah**! That's why I couldn't pin you down at first. (_squints._) You look kind of different under a brighter light...

**DeMARTINO:** I would love to stay and discuss the **minutiae** of my APPEARANCE, but as you can see, I have shopping to do. So why don't you take your Always With WINGS to the cash register and --

**JAKE:** Hey! They're not **mine**, they're Qui-- um! I mean, you sure you don't need any help? If you don't mind my saying so, you seem kind of **upset**. (_receives a "Well duh" glare from DeMartino._) Don't give yourself a heart attack, old buddy! (leans forward to pat DeMartino on the arm, but is discouraged by the look on his face.)

**DeMARTINO:** (_nonetheless, slightly mollified_) Thank you for your LESS than total unconcern for my **welfare**, Mr. Morgendorffer, but I'm fine.

**JAKE:** Um, okay. (_waves, turns away to go._)

(_Pause_)

**DeMARTINO:** (_in a low grumble_) How would you like it if **everything** you'd worked so damned **hard** for was threatening to shatter into itty bitty pieces??

**JAKE:** Huh? (_turns back around to face him._)

**DeMARTINO:** I've been a teacher at that **crummy** school for more years than I want to THINK about. The only reason I'm **still** there is because all of the other schools in the area are so much WORSE, and because I've squandered my LIFE for too long to find another job.

**JAKE:** Man, that **stinks**.

**DeMARTINO:** I'd kept my SANITY just long enough to get seniority, and something that **almost** resembled respect, when along came some **snotty**, pampered ex-PREP school teacher to take the spotlight away. The principal ADORES him, gives him **every** privilege beFITting a teacher, and sometimes **more**. And if I don't watch out, HE'LL soon be calling the shots at that school, an' I'LL be out on the street. You know what I mean?!

**JAKE:** YEAH!

**DeMARTINO:** (_not anticipating such an enthusiastic response_) You DO??

**JAKE:** That reminds me of what **I'm** going through right now. (_His face reddens as he goes off on his own resentful rant._) Man, I've got some big shot trying to move in on my wife, Helen. (_Bt_) Okay, I don't have any proof, but all of the circumstantial evidence **points** to it! It's all I can think about lately, and I keep wondering what I should do. Maybe...

**DeMARTINO:** (_muttering while Jake continues to speak_) So it appears you see MY problems as just an opening to discuss YOUR problems. What a tremendous SHOCK. (He starts to leave, but his curiosity over Jake's situation, and his desperate need to talk about it, gets the better of him.)

**JAKE:** (_missing his sarcasm_) See, my wife and I had a big fight a while back. We separated for a couple of days, but when we made up, we vowed things would be different between us. And I'd like to think we were closer than ever...

[*] see "None in the Family"

(Fade-out. Fade-in to shot of Jake and Helen seated on opposite ends of the center couch, Helen going through papers and Jake snoozing, with the paper half-covering his face.)

**JAKE:** (_VO from the present_) Helen promised to be less controlling and more open to me having more responsibility in our house. So over the past several months, I've been helping my kid with math.

(Cut to shot of Jake sitting at the table with Quinn, holding a math book, while Quinn scribbles away furiously.)

**DeMARTINO:** (_VO from the present_) Grrr... **math**. Don't... mention... **math** to me...

**JAKE:** (_VO_) I've felt rewarded in a way that I didn't think was possible. I can't thank Helen enough for trusting me with this opportunity.

**DeMARTINO:** (_VO, sarcastic_) How very NOBLE of her. Maybe someday she'll trust you to pay the **bills** as well.

**JAKE:** (_VO_) No. (_Bt_) I still can't do that without her looking over my shoulder...

(We then see Helen walk across screen in the foreground, sorting through bills. As Jake watches her go, his face gets progressively irritated.)

**JAKE:** (_VO_) ... Or... most other projects. (_Bt_) But still, we were doing pretty well, so I thought. (_more ominous._) Until last Saturday afternoon...

(Shot of Jake walking around the side of the house, towards the sliding glass door. He's holding a hose that's still running, having just finished doing some gardening. As he starts to open the door, we hear the muted sounds of Daria and Helen talking.)

**DARIA:** (_off screen_) ... So sculpting instructors make house calls.

(Jake's eyes widen with curiosity, and he crouches down so as not to be seen through the window, still clinging to the hose. Cut to shot of Daria sitting at the kitchen counter while Helen stands over the sink, washing clay residue off of her hands.)

**DARIA:** Remind me of that next time I get a demon urge to make a flamingo out of wax.

**HELEN:** (_amused-exasperated_) Oh **Daria**...

**DARIA:** But then again, I'm not sure my body could take being hugged twice by a guy who pumps one hundred pounds of pottery on a daily basis.

**HELEN:** Oh my... are you all right??

**DARIA:** I'm fine. The swelling should go down in a day or two.

**HELEN:** Greg's just a friendly man, I'm afraid. But don't worry: he was just here this **one** time, honest.

**DARIA:** (_cocking an eyelid_) The way you two were talking, it seemed like you have these playdates regularly.

**HELEN:** (_sounding a bit uneasy_) Well we don't. He was just teaching me to hold my hands properly on the pottery wheel.

**DARIA:** For four hours.

**HELEN:** Yes. (_She emits what sounds like a strained chuckle._)

[*] Note: Greg made his appearance in "Breaking the Mold" and was alluded to in "Erin the Head."

(Cut to shot of Jake crouched down against the side of the house, ear turned toward the slightly-open door. He mouths the words "four hours??")

**JAKE:** (_VO_) At first when I heard that, I was as cool as a cucumber. (_A "who cares" expression spreads over Jake's face._) So Helen's art teacher was over. Wasn't that nice? (_Bt. Some doubt creeps in._) Although it **was** kind of strange that she hadn't mentioned he was coming. (_Bt. Some more doubt._) Or that they were talking for so long. How the heck could Helen keep him interested in her damn lawyer stories for four **whole** hours? (_A look of panic takes over Jake's face._) Unless maybe he was only **acting** interested when really he was thinking about something **else**. Something not real **good**, if you catch my drift! (_Anger quickly replaces the panic._) Damn it! She's been taking his art class for **weeks**! How long had they been doing this so-called **talking**?? I should have told Helen from the start that she's no good at sculpting -- I could have stopped her from **going**!

**DeMARTINO:** (_VO_) Mr. **Morgendorffer**, please: get a grip.

**JAKE:** All right, all right. (Jake in the flashback takes a deep breath, relaxing his grip on the hose, allowing pent-up water to gush out.) Well even if it was all nothing, I wasn't gonna let it get any farther than that! (Jake gets a determined look on his face, straightens up, and takes a decisive step forward. Then he stops, and shudders, pan down to show that he's ankle-deep in a mud puddle created by the trickling hose.)

(Fade-out. Fade-in to shot of the outside of the house, completely dark except for the upstairs bedrooms. Cut to shot of Jake sitting up in bed. He quickly unbuttons his pajama top and tosses it over the side.)

**JAKE:** (_VO_) So that night, I decided to turn on some of the old **bedroom** charm. She can't resist that stuff!

(Pan over to show Helen, also sitting up, deeply absorbed in papers. Jake leans over and starts nuzzling her neck.)

**HELEN:** (_flinging down the papers she's holding_) **Jakey**! (_The color that fills her cheeks suggests that she's aroused._)

**JAKE:** (_low, Elvis-like voice_) Aw **come** onnnn. Papa Bear needs some **lovin'** tonight! And you look soooooo **good**. (_kisses her neck._)

**HELEN:** (_still blushing, half-insistent_) Now Jake, I've got to catch up on the paperwork I didn't get to this aft... (Jake starts nibbling on her ear. Suddenly she shoves her papers aside and faces him, a girlish expression on her face.) Oh **all** right.

(They start kissing, then the light grows dim and the scene fades out. Fade-in to some time later -- much later -- that night. Jake is sitting up, his chest still bare, hair mussed, and arms tucked behind his head. Helen lies beside him, asleep. One of her bare arms is curled over his stomach and her head is nestled against his side. A slow, victorious grin spreads across Jake's face.)

**JAKE:** (_VO_) "Well done, Jake, m'man!" I thought to myself. "By tomorrow she'll be saying Greg **who**??"

**DeMARTINO:** (_VO_) Mr. MORgendorffer, do you **really** think it's wise to leak your SEXUAL details to your kids' TEACHER in a public place??

(Cut to shot of Jake and DeMartino in the present. Jake gets a horrified "Oh NO!" expression on his face. Cut to wider shot. We see several shoppers gathered nearby, paused in their activities, which suggests they've been listening.)

**JAKE:** (_looking around_) Oh God! You're not gonna tell anyone are you??

**EVERYONE:** (_in unison, innocent_) Of course not!

(They resume shopping, and Jake breathes a sigh of relief. Fade-out. Fade-in to a flashback shot of Jake walking casually down the stairs, into the living room.)

**JAKE:** (_VO_) After that night, I was **positive** everything was fine. Until yesterday...

(Helen's muffled laughter can be heard from off screen. Jake scowls and mouths the word "**Er-ic**" as he enters the kitchen. Pan over to show Helen sitting at the table, cell phone to her ear.)

**HELEN:** (_blushing, chortling_) Oh Greg, you have to promise not to tell **anyone**! I've **never** told that story to a living soul before. (_more laughter._)

(_Cut to shot of Jake, his eyes widening._)

**JAKE:** (_VO_) She was talking to Greg and laughing, like he was the greatest person in the **world** or something!

(Jake frowns and gets an angry, confused look on his face. Fade-out. Fade-in to shot of Jake and DeMartino standing in line at the cash register. DeMartino has just paid for his measly three items, and is ready to leave.)

**JAKE:** (_resentful_) Oh **sure**, she acted like nothing was going on when she hung up the phone, but I knew **something** was up! But I didn't know what to do. If I confront her about it, I'll just end up making her mad and that could drive her away. (_face falls._) I can't let that happen.

**DeMARTINO:** (_taking his grocery back, turning to face Jake_) I **sympathize** with you, Mr. Morgendorffer. In fact I **thank** you for making my life seem slightly LESS pathetic... at least for ten minutes or so. (_Bt_) I wish you luck.

**JAKE:** (_weakly_) Thanks. (_waves a little to DeMartino as he leaves, then slumps down._)

(_Fade-out. Fade-in to: _)

SCENE 2 (_Morgendorffer house, a little later_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Jake struggling to balance multiple grocery bags as he makes his way through the living room. Quinn bounds downstairs and glances at them with disapproval.)

**QUINN:** God, Dad, I hope you didn't get jellied pork shoulder **again**. That stuff is **so** fattening for you.

[*] see "A Tree Grows in Lawndale"

**JAKE:** (_struggling_) Hmmm-mmmmm...

**QUINN:** (_after standing there a few seconds, watching him_) Oh, I guess I should help you, shouldn't I? (_From off screen, a car horn honks._) Uh-oh, gotta run: practice!

(She leaves, and predictably, Jake spills the contents in his bags over the couch and onto the floor. Daria chooses that moment to walk downstairs.)

**DARIA:** (_looking at the mess_) Dad, I know you like to experiment with new ways of cooking, but I'd advise you to quit while you're ahead.

**JAKE:** (_getting worried_) Oh geez, I gotta clean up before your **mom** sees this!

**DARIA:** No need to rush: she won't be back from her art class for a couple of hours.

**JAKE:** Oh. (_His face puckers._)

(Fade-out. Fade-in to shot of Jake lounging on the center couch, a dull, depressed look on his face. He's eating melted ice cream straight out of the carton, and picking at other food that was in the grocery bags. The groceries are scattered on the couch -- Jake hasn't put anything away. Just then, we hear the click of the front door off screen.)

**HELEN:** (_off screen_) Hellllllooo? I'm back! Did you -- (The cheer in her voice disappears as Helen appears on screen and surveys Jake's mess. Jake, who sat bolt upright the moment she came in, now tries to cover up the stuff, an embarrassed grin on her face.)

**JAKE:** Hi, honey!

**HELEN:** (_hands on her hips, irritated tone_) Jake, I asked you to do **one** simple chore around the house, and **this** is how it turns out?? I really don't know what's **wrong** with you, sometimes. **Honestly**, a man with two teenaged daughters ought to have the **maturity** to carry through with a --

**JAKE:** (_jumping in, bitter_) Ohhhh, so I guess it's "no more **responsibility**" for Jakey, then! "Big stupid Jakey's just gonna **mess** things up! I'll just do **everything** from now on because I can do it SO MUCH BETTER!!"

**HELEN:** (_has heard this once too often_) Jake, would you **please** stop putting words in my mouth?? **All** I'm saying is that I wish you'd think things **through**. For God's sake, if you'd just act your **age** --

**JAKE:** Oh yeah RIGHT, act my **age**! 'Cause Jake Morgendorffer NEVER acts his age! (_whiny tone._) He just acts like a big, fussy **baby**, always whining, can't take **care** of himself! That's what you think, **isn't** it?!

**HELEN:** (_eyes narrowing_) Well if the bib fits... (Sees Jake get a stunned, hurt on his face, which immediately fills her with guilt. It shows in her expression.) I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. (_sighs._) We shouldn't be fighting like this. Not after all we went through a while back.

**JAKE:** (_nodding, forlorn_) The only reason I didn't put everything away is 'cause I couldn't stop thinking of **you**. I didn't want to miss when you came home.

**HELEN:** (_under her breath_) Not even to put away the ground beef... (_shakes her head, and adopts a maternal, upbeat tone._) Well I'm here **now**. (_makes room to sit down beside Jake, and puts her hands over his._) And we can spend the **rest** of the evening together.

**JAKE:** (_long-faced_) Oh sure. You **say** that, but you'll just do paperwork and talk on the phone.

**HELEN:** (_exasperation creeping in_) I -- will **not**. I promise. (On cue, her cell phone springs to life. Helen glances at it for a couple of seconds, then shuts it off. She turns to Jake and lets out an embarrassed chuckle.)

**JAKE:** (_resentful_) Used to be bad enough when that was **all** you did, but between work and your **damn** art class, you don't have any time for me, anymore.

**HELEN:** Now Jake --

**JAKE:** I miss you, honey.

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** (_face softening_) Ohhh... (_fingers his hair soothingly._) Now Jakey, what do you want me to do? Give up my class?

**JAKE:** (_face brightening_) Yeah! Could you?!

**HELEN:** NO!

(They pull apart, each a little stunned by the intensity of her response. Jake gets a look on his face that says his fears have been validated -- part anxiety, part triumph. Helen's cheeks redden.)

**JAKE:** (_deeply worried_) Why not?? What do you get from that class that you can't get **here**?? (_sneering._) Or should I say **who**?

**HELEN:** (_already launching into her response, missing Jake's last few words_) That class is a **wonderful** place for me to expand my artistic horizons in a controlled setting, make new contacts, achieve greater **focus** and acquire new skills --

**JAKE:** (_voice edging on panic_) But you could do all that stuff **here**! You could build your weird sculptures at the kitchen table -- we won't mind! They'd make great centerpieces. (He chuckles weakly when he thinks of how ugly Helen's sculptures are, then rushes on.) And your "contacts" can be me and the girls -- there's **always** crazy stuff going on with us. Like today I ran into the girls' history teacher...

**HELEN:** (_guilty_) Sweetie... you **know** I want to be with you and the girls as much as possible. (_Bt, sighs, then becomes insistent._) But it just wouldn't be the **same** if I sculpted at home. We've got different lighting, none of the right supplies. It's **fine** for working on the projects after they've been started, but the atmosphere --

**JAKE:** (_fidgeting_) We'll **buy** you supplies! We'll get new lighting!

**HELEN:** (_cheeks red, speaking each word with emphasis_) Jake, I--don't-- **want**--to--quit--my--art--class.

(Pause. Jake's animation dies and he turns away from Helen, a sour, resentful look on his face. Helen looks contrite, but resolute.)

**JAKE:** Okay, **fine**. You love your **damned** class so much then FINE! You just **go** off and **abandon** me!

**HELEN:** Oh don't be ridiculous --

**JAKE:** Just GO ahead and **abandon** Jakey! Everyone ELSE has, so why not **you**?? (_tremor in his voice._) I just never thought that my own **wife** would do something like that to me...

**HELEN:** Jake... (She's prepared to be patient with him until he regains him senses. But when she sees that his eyes have moistened, her face softens once more. She leans over and lays her arms around Jake, who at first resists, then huddles against her.) Honey, I would **never** abandon you. Never. (Then, thinking that Jake is just upset about being left home alone while she goes to class:) Look, **why** not come with me to my class next week and see what it's like?

**JAKE:** (_lifts his head a little, puzzled_) Come... to the class??

**HELEN:** There's an open house next week -- I was going to tell you. You'd get to meet some people. We'd get to spend time together.

**JAKE:** Aw, but honey, I get so **tired** in the evenings... (One glance at Helen's face, and he realizes that's the wrong thing to say. Suddenly his face lights up.) **Wait**: will your instructor be there??

**HELEN:** Of **course** Greg will be there. And I'm sure he'd love to meet you.

**JAKE:** And I'd love to meet **him**.

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 3 (_Lawndale High, after school, a few days later_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of a conference room with a long table, around which nearly all of the teachers have been gathered. Ms. Li presides at the head of the table in a chair more appropriate for a throne room. She taps a pen impatiently as she goes over the issues of the meeting.)

**MS. LI:** All riiiight. Enough discussion of cutting popular but **meaningless** programs, like music and counseling. It's time to move on to our **next** topic: instrrructor morale. (_phony sincerity._) As principal of Llllllawndale High, I **care** about your well-being!

**TEACHERS:** (_stunned_) You do??

**O'NEILL:** (_cupping his hands with delight_) That's **super**, Ms. Li! It's important that as **educators**, we use our unity as a force of **enlightenment** for young people.

**BARCH:** (_seated beside him, scoffing_) If you **really** care about us, you'd petition for us all to get the piddling raises we were supposed to get **last** year. (_Is met with a chorus of concurring voices._)

**MS. LI:** (_irritated_) Oh **fiddle-faddle**. The only reason I'm bringing this up is to prevent one of you from spinning out of controllll and indulging violent, murderous behavior that could make me look bad! (She looks pointedly at DeMartino at the opposite end of the table, as do the other teachers.)

**DeMARTINO:** (_arms folded, sullen_) **Hmph**.

**MS. LI:** Annnnthony, I understand you have **grievances** against our **upstanding** new addition to the staff.

**BARCH:** (_under her breath_) He's not the **only** one.

**O'NEILL:** (_overhearing her, concerned_) Janet...

(Just then the door opens and we see Mr. Phelps stride in, seeming in a hurry, but still as un-rattled as always. He glances around the room, his deadpan expression proclaiming that he doesn't really want to be here but knows he has no choice.)

**PHELPS:** I'm sorry about my tardiness. A student of mine came to me and --

**MS. LI:** (_coddling_) Neverrr mind, Alfred. As far as we're concerned, you're **right** on time.

(_Cut to close-up of DeMartino, simmering._)

**DeMARTINO:** (_low, grumbling voice_) "**Alfred**"?! That stuffed PEACOCK has been here for less than a YEAR, and she's already started calling him "ALFRED"! It took **me** ten years and a recommendation by the SCHOOL BOARD for her to call me "Anthony"!

**PHELPS:** (_having overheard, rolling his eyes_) Still gnawing on that bone, are we?

**MS. LI:** Yesss, Anthony, your weighing and measuring of other teachers' privileges against your own has gotten verrrry tiresome. I hereby demand you stuff **all** that resentment down deep inside and never bother anyone else with it **again**.

**BENNETT:** (_nervously helpful_) But Ms. Li, is that **really** the way to boost Anthony's morale?

(Ms. Li groans, looking irritated that Bennett had to remind her. Phelps stands where he is and glances at his watch, looking bored.)

**MS. LI:** Well at least it would boost morale for the **rest** of us.

**DeMARTINO:** My morale will be BOOSTED when certain TEACHERS stop getting **privileges** that are entirely UNDESERVED!!

**PHELPS:** (_turning to him, irritated_) "Undeserved"?? For your information, **sir**, I teach seven periods a day, five days a week, twelve hours a day, forgoing the union-specified "prep" period so I have more time to spend with my students.

**MS. LI:** (_jumping in_) He came to us having won **three** statewide medals for excelllence and has continued to bring in the accolades ever since!

(Phelps glances at her, looking a miffed that she's heaping so much praise on him, as it's bound to not ingratiate him with DeMartino.)

**BENNETT:** (_meek_) He **does** work hard, Anthony. (_Her remark is accompanied by several conceding nods._)

**BARCH:** (_irritated_) And the rest of us **don't**, huh?

**DeMARTINO:** (_leaping up, seething_) Well **I** work JUST as hard a **you** do, put in JUST as many backbreaking hours trying to drill **knowledge** into those little PARASITES with legs!

**O'NEILL:** (_pacifying_) Now Anthony, there's no need to resort to **unpleasant** names... (_gets an icy glare from DeMartino._) Eap.

**DeMARTINO:** Why should HE get more privileges than **I** do?? I'll tell you WHY?! (_glares at Li._) Because **he** is teaching the class that will lead to MONEY. (_says it with a sneer._). HIS students will become ENGINEERS and computer PROGRAMMERS! While MY students'll become **overpaid** SECRETARIES, using their Liberal Arts degrees as DOORSTOPS. (_rushes over to Phelps._) HE'S the teacher of the **future**, while **I** and others of my ilk are the DINOSAURS! (_looks at the other teachers, eyes bulging._) Don't be **surprised** if the NEXT time there's talk of cutting "meaningless **programs**," the HUMANITIES are the next to go!

**BARCH:** (_pacified_) Well then **I'm** sitting pretty.

**MS. LI:** (_laughing uneasily_) Don't... be... ridiculous, Mr. DeMartino! I would... **never** do something like that.

**PHELPS:** (_to DeMartino_) With the teacher's union and tenure on your side, that's highly unlikely.

**MS. LI:** Y-**yes**, exactly! So in conclusion, until **you** start bringing the honorrrr and glory to Llllawndale High like your esteemed colleague here, **kill** the sour grapes attitude. Now on to our next order of business...

(_DeMartino and Phelps eye each other -- "This isn't over."_)

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 4 (_Lawndale Community Center, next week_)

(Shot of the outside. It's a nondescript rectangular building, a couple of stories high. Cars are jammed into the front parking lot. Cut to close-up of the front entrance. A short flight of stairs leads up to double doors, which in turn lead to a hallway. We see several people standing around, chatting casually, and that Helen and Jake are weaving around them. Jake struggles with Helen's latest piece, which has been covered over with a cloth. As they enter the building, Jake gets so caught up in watching the people that he runs into a wall. Luckily this merely rattles the sculpture.)

**JAKE:** Gah! (_Pulls away, starts rubbing his nose._)

**HELEN:** (_irritated_) Dammit Jake, **watch** out! I've worked **very** hard on that!

**JAKE:** (_defensive_) I'm sorry! It's not broken. (_muttering._) Not that it'd look any worse if it **was**...

**HELEN:** **What**??

**JAKE:** Nothing!

**JANE:** (_off screen_) Hey Helen, you still hacking away at that giant asparagus of yours?

(She walks on screen, carrying a duffel bag over one shoulder. Smirking, she points at the sculpture, not seeing who is carrying it.)

**JAKE:** (_poking his head out_) Hey, it's Jane-o!

(_Jane cringes with surprise, then shrugs resignedly._)

**JANE:** Well I guess I should've realized that the sculpture wasn't walking on its own -- (_to Helen_) though with **your** work, I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

(Helen chuckles. Jake gazes back and forth between them, surprised by their seeming ease together.)

**JANE:** So I've been spotted, I guess.

**HELEN:** Yep.

**JAKE:** Hey, I didn't know you took Helen's class, Jane! Or that you guys were on a **first** name basis.

**JANE:** (_holding up her hands, looking embarrassed_) **Take** the class?? Puh-leese, Mr. Morgendorffer, Jane Lane **needs** no mainstream, intermediate-level course to teach **her** how to sculpt. I just help out sometimes, since Greg and my mom are friends. (At the name "Greg," Jake's face darkens briefly. Meanwhile Jane smirks at Helen.) And since I can't resist the urge to flex my oversized ego in the presence of helpless novices.

**HELEN:** (_rolling her eyes, knows Jane is teasing_) And she's helped me out tremendously by giving a few pointers here and there.

**JANE:** And she's helped **me** out by not probing for info about your bespectacled eldest child. (_Bt_) Plus, she acts so damn enthusiastic about what she's doing that my cold artist's heart can't help but be a little thawed.

**JAKE:** And so **that's** when you started calling her "Helen"?

**JANE:** (_looking more embarrassed_) Er... it just **slipped** out one day. Before I knew it, I was spiraling downhill.

**JAKE:** Do you want to call **me** "Jake"?

**JANE:** (_still more embarrassed_) I have enough trouble accepting that I'm on a first named basis with **one** of my friends' parents; working my way up to **both** of you will take some time. (_pats Jake on the arm._) You'll have to gain my trust first.

**JAKE:** How do I do that??

**JANE:** Cold hard cash, mister. (_sees Jake start to reach for his wallet, puts a restraining hand on his arm._) **Or** just don't rat to Daria that you saw me here. (_smirks again at Helen._) Your wife and I have promised to restrict our less antagonistic relations to art class **only**. (_cocks a brow._) But otherwise --

**HELEN:** (_smiling_) Nothing's changed. I'm still Daria's meddlesome old mother. (_Bt_) Well not **so** old.

**JANE:** Yep. (_Bt_) Anyway I gotta go get ready for my date tonight. Could you let Greg know that I only came this time to drop off some art supplies? (_waves "So long."_)

**HELEN:** Of course. (_waves back cheerfully as Jane leaves._) Have a good time!

**JAKE:** (_waving while trying to balance the sculpture_) Yeah, **bye** Jane-o! (_When she's gone, he turns to Helen, an incredulous look on his face._) Wow, I'd've never thought you and the Janester would've hit it off. She's so loose and live-and-let live, and you're so --

**HELEN:** **Restrained**? (Her cocked brow suggests that she knew he was going to choose a less flattering word.) Well **I** was surprised as well. But sometimes when I talk to her, a part of me that I'd thought I'd forgotten comes out. (She then chuckles a little, as though she'd just found these last words to be absurd.)

**JAKE:** Really? Like what?

(Before Helen can respond, a tall, silver-haired man appears on screen and engulfs her in a friendly hug.)

**MAN:** (_cheerful_) Hey there, Helen darling! How're the old wrists doing?

(As he pulls away from her, we see that it's Greg. As Daria mentioned, he is muscular from hours of sculpting and lifting. Dressed in an old flannel shirt and jeans with specks of paint and clay embedded in them, he has an easy-going persona that is not hard to warm to. We see right away that Helen has a great rapport with him. Her smile widens and her eyes light up as they face each other. Jake notices this, and after setting aside Helen's sculpture, stiffens up in a boxer stance with his eyes narrowed.)

**HELEN:** Oh they're just fine, Greg. The soreness went away once I gave up on those sculpting **marathons**.

**GREG:** (_smiling with understanding_) Six hours straight is definitely a case of tendinitis waiting to happen. I'm glad you're feeling better. (_raises a brow._) And if there's anything else you'd like to get off your chest...

(Helen responds to his question with a slight coloring of the cheeks and puckered lips which suggest she is both embarrassed and receptive. Just then Jake charges forward and sticks out his hand in front of Greg.)

**JAKE:** (_curt_) Nice to meet you, pal. I'm Jake Morgendorffer, Helen's **husband**. (_He clenches his hand, as if preparing to squeeze hard._)

**HELEN:** (_turning and laying her hand against the crook of Jake's other arm_) Yes, Greg: he's joining me for the open house tonight.

**GREG:** You are? That's great, Jake. If you're even **half** as enthusiastic as your wife, you should take to art like a duck to water. (_He leans forward and grips Jake's outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake._)

**JAKE:** (_pulling back, wiggling his fingers to get feeling back in them_) Um... yeah.

(Greg motions at them to follow him. Jake lingers behind to pick up the sculpture, looks at Greg with a glaring expression.)

**END OF ACT ONE**

[Shot of Jake tripping on the can and falling against the freezer, followed by shot of Helen and Daria talking in the kitchen, followed by shot of DeMartino standing beside Phelps and yelling, followed by shot of Greg gripping Jake's hand and giving it a firm shake.]

You are now entering commercial **HELL**. Please keep your seat belt securely fastened. You are about to see some of the lamest commercials put on television.

  1. "Next Wednesday, on the Ten Spot: Daria accepts an invitation to join Lawndale High's underground newspaper. But what happens when she and the clique don't **click**? Find out next week on an all-new 'Daria.'"

* Have you seen the previews for "Ed"? The show about the "bowling alley lawyer"?? In yet another knock-off of "Providence" and "Judging Amy," a big cityite decides he would be better off in quaint suburbia having kooky, heart-warming adventures. Now why does that seem familiar to me...?

* Oh God, the WORST example of poor taste from Nike, who until this point had impressed me with it's "Just Do It" commercials for women athletes. You may have seen the one where a chain saw wielding maniac prepares to make mincemeat of an unsuspecting woman... only to get outrun by her because she was "empowered" enough to wear Nike sneakers. Was Nike **that** greedy for consumers that it had to resort to something with that kind of shock value?? If so, it might have accomplished the opposite: turned an entire population **off** to its product.

You are now leaving commercial **HELL**. Aren't you happy you survived?

## 

AN UNEASY MARRIAGE

* * *

**ACT TWO**

SCENE 1 (_post office, that weekend, a few days later_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of DeMartino standing near the end of a very long line, waiting to deliver a package. He grunts and groans with frustration that verges on rage, causing many people nearby him to back away in fear. Cut to frontal shot of DeMartino, twitching ever so slightly, his eye bulging, checking his watch. Just then, a hand reaches on screen and taps him on the shoulder.)

**JAKE:** (_off screen_) **Hey** there!

**DeMARTINO:** AGH!!

(He swerves around, his hands curling into fists, looking ready to smash the face of whoever touched him. The people nearby back away even further, one person behind him even leaving. Pan over to show Jake, realizing he'd done something wrong, and cowering a little, but his friendliness undiminished.)

**JAKE:** Heh-heh, sorry 'bout that, Mr. DeMartino. I-I just thought...

(DeMartino groans and slaps his forehead, looking resigned to the task of talking to this man when he'd rather be left alone.)

**DeMARTINO:** Thought "What a **happy** COINcidence! There's my kids' teacher whom I **just** saw a little more than a WEEK ago."

**JAKE:** (_uneasy_) Um, yeah. And what a small world it is.

**DeMARTINO:** Considering the population of **Lawndale** could fit into a giant's TEASPOON, it is **not** surprising that we could meet up in two ENTIRELY different places in a short span of time.

**JAKE:** Yeah. But we've never done it before. (_DeMartino's brows raise in a conceding gesture._) And oh **man**, the stuff that's happened to me since the last time I saw you...

**DeMARTINO:** Before you proceed any FURTHER, may I **remind** you that any confidence on **your** part could inadvertently HUMILIATE your **daughters**, not to mention your WIFE. (Jake gets a chastened look on his face, as he realizes that DeMartino is right. DeMartino cocks a grudgingly curious brow.) None the less, if you WISH to proceed, I won't stand in your way.

(With that, we fade-out. Fade-in to where we left off at the end of Act One. Now we see the inside of Greg's classroom, a large, white-walled room with bright lighting, a cement floor, and small windows lining the ceiling. In one corner is a smaller supply room, where the paints, plaster, clay, and other materials have been stashed. In another stands a wall-length drying rack, housing finished and unfinished sculptures alike. It's a much more "official" atmosphere than the Lane basement in "Breaking the Mold." Most of the students in the class work at long tables, and we see Greg wandering over to each one, observing and posing questions.)

(Cut to shot of Jake and Helen standing at a table. Helen is busy at work on the "giant asparagus," gazing at it intently and not speaking. Meanwhile, Jake is standing beside her like a sentinel, on the watch for any sign of Greg. Cut to brief shot of Greg, a distance away, from Jake's POV. Cut to close-up of Jake: he gets a dark scowl on his face, and off screen we hear a sharp thumping.)

**HELEN:** (_off screen, irritated_) **Jake**!

(Cut to wide shot of the two of them. Helen glares at the pair of pliers which Jake has been unconsciously hitting against the table. Jake chuckles apologetically, lays them down. But as Helen continues sculpting, he grows bored with his guardian role, and starts to make unconscious throat-clearing and table rapping sounds. Finally Helen turns to Jake with a vexed expression.)

**HELEN:** (_straining to patient_) Jakey, you don't have to stay with **me** the entire class. Why not go mingle with the other guests?

**JAKE:** (_vaguely panicky_) Aw, but I don't want to leave you by yourself. Come with me! You always **like** talking to people.

**HELEN:** Maybe later. (_glances around the room, points._) Look, honey: all of the other guests are **making** things. If you don't feel like talking to them, you could go to the supply room and find something to work with.

**JAKE:** Awww, but I don't **want** t... (Helen's expression suggests that she'd really like it if Jake did as she said.) Ohhh **o-kay**. **But just remember:** (_puts a hand on Helen's cheek in a melodramatic gesture._) Jakey will be back before you know it! (_He then engulfs her in an impulsive hug._)

**HELEN:** (_strange expression_) Umph... all right.

(Jake releases her abruptly and hurries off -- the less time away from his table the better. Helen heaves a sigh of relief and returns to her creation.)

(Cut to shot of Jake scrambling toward the supply room, his eyes turned in the opposite direction from where he was headed. Cut to his POV: we see that Greg has inched his way closer to the table and is now looking over the work of another student. Cut to shot of Jake: the panic on his face increases, and he turns toward the supply room -- and nearly plows into another student carrying a large, menacing sculpture built out of old engine parts.)

**JAKE:** Gah! That could've sliced my -- (_takes a good look at the sculpture._) Ooooh...

**MAN:** You like?

**JAKE:** You bet I like! (_starts fingering parts of the sculpture with childlike enthusiasm._) Wish **I** could make one of these!

**MAN:** (_shrugging_) There's a box of odds and ends in the supply room. All you need is some first class junk and a lot of patience. (Looks up from his sculpture at Jake as he says this, but sees that he's already run off.)

(Cut to shot of Jake digging through a pile that would be a junk man's dream, with an eagerness on his face that resembles an explorer on the verge of discovering a major find. Cut to shot of him emerging from the supply room, his arms loaded down with junk, on his way back to the table. But just has he's taken a couple of steps, he stops and gets a crestfallen look on his face. Cut to shot of Helen at the table: Jake's delay has been costly, for now Greg stands beside her at the table, and the two appear to be chatting.)

**JAKE:** (_VO_) There he was again! But were they talking, or (_ominous_) **talking**??

(He frowns, and is about to bolt over, when a female student walks up and casually observes the same thing.)

**WOMAN:** (_under her breath_) He has the patience of a **saint**.

**JAKE:** Wh-what do you mean??

**WOMAN:** (_surprised that Jake heard her, but unfazed_) That bitch he's talking to is possessed, or something. She hardly talks to anyone during the entire class, except to yell when someone's ruining her precious concentration.

**JAKE:** (_confused, remembering Helen's earlier words to him_) You mean no "making new contacts"?? No "networking"??

**WOMAN:** (_shrugging_) Well she's got **plenty** of contact with Greg. He talks to her more than anyone else. And for some crazy reason, he seems to like her the best. (She casually walks off, leaving Jake looking worried, not liking what he's heard.)

(Cut to shot of Greg standing beside Helen as she continues to sculpt. She's now in a less focused mode, and has partially turned to the side to talk with him.)

**GREG:** Hey, if you don't feel like discussing problems at work, then that's just fine.

**HELEN:** (_blushing, teasing_) Oh you **say** that, but why do I have the feeling you'll use some of that **black magic** on me and make me say things I never meant to say??

**GREG:** (_still friendly, but sounding a little taken aback_) What **magic**, Helen? All I've ever done is ask questions: it's your choice whether you want to answer them. And since you don't... (_pats her arm lightly, suggesting that he's going to move on._)

**HELEN:** (_still teasing, mustering assertiveness_) Well maybe I **will** tell you one of these days. When I'm in the right mood.

**GREG:** Sure. (_smiles warmly._) And you know I'll be here.

(Helen gets an expression on her face that suggests some light has been lit inside her. She looks at Greg as though there are a million things she wants to say, but couldn't begin to articulate. Finally she lets out a funny-sounding chuckle and gazes down at her work. Just then Jake storms up and dumps his odds and ends on the table, looking at Greg with a glowering expression. Greg gazes at his finds with interest, Helen with puzzlement.)

**HELEN:** Jake, when I sent you to the supply room, I didn't think...

**JAKE:** (_angry_) Well I'm **back**, and that's all that matters! And I'm not leaving **anymore**!

**GREG:** Looks like you've found yourself some mighty fine treasure.

**JAKE:** (_looking at Helen_) Yeah! And I'm not gonna let it go!

**GREG:** So you want to come back next week and work on it?

**JAKE:** Just what the hell do you mean by **that**?! (_looks down at his junk._) Oh. (_chuckles._) Well gosh, **sure**. I mean if Helen lets me.

**HELEN:** (_seeming amused, exasperated by his choice of words_) Of **course** I'll "let" you.

**DeMARTINO:** (_VO_) If it makes you feel better, Mr. Morgendorffer, I doubt that if that Greg fellow HAD designs on your wife, he would invite you to come to the very PLACE he's making his advances.

**JAKE:** (_VO, sounding relieved_) **Yeah**. Or else he's just really dumb!

(Fade-out. Fade-in to flashback shot of Jake and Helen in the car, on their way home from the class. Jake looks ecstatic, Helen pleased.)

**JAKE:** (_VO_) In any case, I was home free!

**HELEN:** Well I think it's **wonderful**. I didn't even know you **liked** art, Jake. But with you and me taking the same class, we'll finally have that quality couples time we've been **after** for so long.

**JAKE:** Yeah!

**HELEN:** No **work** nor daughters nor television nor newspapers to distract us. And **this** time we can really make the most of it.

**JAKE:** You bet! (_Bt_) What do you mean "this time"?

**HELEN:** (_uneasiness creeping in_) **Oh** well... you remember the last time we scheduled time together -- that mountain cabin retreat.

[*] see "Antisocial Climbers"

**JAKE:** (_a grin spreads across his face as he recalls his and Helen's merrymaking_) Man, **do** I.

**HELEN:** While the **sex** was certainly nothing to complain about... (gets a smirk on her face, which quickly disappears as she grows more serious.) it can't be **everything**. When we tried to just **talk** we... well we couldn't... (_grows too embarrassed to say it point blank._)

**DeMARTINO:** (_VO_) THAT would **explain** why when I came to your cabin half-FROZEN, you thrust me into that game of **charades**.

**HELEN:** Look, we were probably just **overtired** from the drive up, from the pressures put on us by having to do so much in such a short span of time. (_determined._) We'll do **much** better in a more low-key setting.

**JAKE:** Sure we will!

(Cut to shot of Jake and DeMartino in the present. They've each finished delivering the packages they brought and are leaving the post office.)

**JAKE:** (_doing a jazzed fist pump_) So now I can keep an eye on this Greg **bastard**, and if he tries to put moves on Helen, I'll **pound** him one!

**DeMARTINO:** (_wicked look_) Are you so sure spending an evening **alone** each week with your WIFE is a fair price to pay??

(For one moment, Jake doesn't get it. Then he bursts out laughing, and laughs so long and hard, DeMartino starts looking at him as though he's got a screw loose.)

**JAKE:** Seriously, I'll do whatever it takes to keep her happy. (_a little subdued._) She's my rock, my support. Before she came into my life I was just drifting along, and if she left, I'd be lost.

**DeMARTINO:** Nice to see a man with so much FAITH in himself. (He heads toward his rusted-out car, starts to open the door. Jake watches him with a disappointed expression.)

**JAKE:** Gee, you gotta leave so soon? I was sorta thinking we could **rap** a little.

(He looks at DeMartino eagerly, who in turn looks genuinely surprised by the offer. For one moment, his usual gruffness gives way to genuine thoughtfulness. But just as quickly, his skeptical side reasserts itself.)

**DeMARTINO:** I **realize** in your VULNERABLE condition, you need a **warm** body to WHIMPER to, and you chose **me** because I happened to be around. But I am **not** your BUDDY. Now if you'll EXCUSE me, I've gotta get this rust bucket a LUBE JOB.

**JAKE:** (_deflated_) Oh. Sorry 'bout that. (_shrugs._) I guess I got a little excited. I mean you're the first guy I've really been able to talk to in a while. (_scratches his chin thoughtfully._) Something about my **temper** scaring them all away...

(DeMartino cocks a brow, wearing a slightly mollified expression that suggests he understands Finally he rolls his eyes skyward in a conceding manner. Fade-out.)

(Fade-in to shot of DeMartino crawling around on the ground after school, scrounging after items his students have dropped on the floor. And close to rage, as usual.)

**DeMARTINO:** **Lousy** mooching little PUNKS! Too... busy... goofing OFF with their **stupid** LOVE notes and paper AIR planes and **chewing** gum -- GRRRHHH! (_as he accidently presses down on an old piece of gum stuck to the floor._) Goddamn stupid **little**...

(Suddenly he runs into a pair of shiny brown leather shoes. DeMartino stares at them with surprise, and looks up. Cut to his POV: we see none other than Phelps towering above him. Resume previous shot. DeMartino gets a look of extreme irritation, and for one moment seems to carefully consider whether or not to spit on those flawless shoes. Cut to shot of Phelps as seen from normal eye level. DeMartino leaps up and gazes at him menacingly.)

**DeMARTINO:** (_gritting teeth_) May I HELP you with something??

**PHELPS:** (_even-toned_) Perhaps. Perhaps not. (_DeMartino gets an even more irritated expression on his face._) Look, we've seemed to have developed some sort of **impasse** this past year. And I, for one, would like to break through it.

**DeMARTINO:** Oh REALLY?? **How**?

**PHELPS:** That's for **both** of us to decide. (_groans._) Look, from the moment I arrived --

**DeMARTINO:** After stuffing your precious **Bentley** into my PARKING SPACE!

**PHELPS:** (_more irritated_) Which did **not** have "Property of Anthony DeMartino" written on it. Otherwise, I can **assure** you --

**DeMARTINO:** (_steamed, remembering_) Ms. Li threw an enormous PARTY to announce that none of us teachers would be getting a **raise** for the year because the DISTRICT had to find **some** way to pay YOU!

**PHELPS:** (_lips curling slightly with impatience_) Again, **not** my fault. I can't be held responsible for how the public school system decides to **screw** the people who keep it afloat.

**DeMARTINO:** You **can** if you didn't have to COME to this **crummy** public school system in the FIRST place! Which makes me wonder **again** --

**PHELPS:** (_rolling his eyes_) For the **thousandth** time, the reason I'm here is because I felt that my services would be of greater value than at Fielding.

(_DeMartino leans forward and looks at him probingly._)

**DeMARTINO:** **Why** do I not BELIEVE you??

**PHELPS:** (_eyes narrowing_) I really don't care whether you **do** or do **not**, dear chum. The point is that we're **both** here to teach the students to the best of our ability. We should be **combining** strategy, not **clawing** each other's eyes out.

(_DeMartino grunts concedingly._)

**JAKE:** (_VO_) So did you two work it out, then?

**DeMARTINO:** (_VO_) Oh... um, yeah. I made that lousy interloper see things MY way. (_cackles angrily._)

(_Cut to shot of him standing next to his car, beside Jake._)

**JAKE:** That's tellin' 'im, big guy! (_does a fist pump, then cowers a little._) Um, is it all right if I call you "big guy"?

**DeMARTINO:** (_something resembling a smile on his face, sort of flattered by the praise_) While I am not certain I would give myself the nickname **commonly** associated with a teenage FOOTBALL player, in your case, I'll let it slide. (_Suddenly a shadow falls over his face._) Well I gotta get going.

**JAKE:** Will I see you again??

**DeMARTINO:** (_gruff_) You mean you WANT to see me again??

**JAKE:** (_cowering a little_) Um, only if **you** want to.

(_DeMartino grunts in response._)

**DeMARTINO:** (_still skeptical_) If you feel you can't live WITHOUT me, give me a ring. And MAYBE I'll be in a good mood.

**JAKE:** Great!

(He waves and walks away jauntily, feeling on top of the world. As DeMartino gets into his car, his face takes on a dark expression. Dissolve to the flashback scene with him and Phelps, resuming where it had left off.)

**PHELPS:** Now if you would only follow my advice, I think we'll be able to fix your problems.

**DeMARTINO:** (_re-enraged_) MY problems?! **I** keep protesting to DEAF ears that the only problem I have is YOU.

**PHELPS:** (_bemused expression_) Well then, **you** obviously must be deaf to the comments of your students and fellow faculty members. Don't you **realize** that people are sneering at you when they're not cowering??

(DeMartino trembles with some of his eye-bulging psycho rage, and reaches over to grip the lapels of Phelps's coat. Phelps gets an extremely irritated look on his face but, although he's not a scrawny man by any means, refrains from trying to pull away. Their eyes lock.)

**DeMARTINO:** You've got that BACKWARDS, pal! It's **you** they're sneering at! Or at least they will when **I** get through CONVINCING them!!

**PHELPS:** (_calm_) And how do you plan to do that? With your (_slight smirk._) **stirring** oratory? With your high ideals?

**DeMARTINO:** **Seniority**, DAMMIT!

**PHELPS:** Oh **please**. When our colleagues look at you, they see an angry, vile, **nasty** man who hates his work and has **no** respect for other people. A man who spouts **conspiracy** theories about cutting the Humanities to cover up the fact that he can't look himself in the mirror each morning. **No** years of hard work will grant you the respect of your peers if you're just going to **give** it away with each opportunity that arises.

(In response to these words, DeMartino grows both more enraged and perceptibly shaken up. He looks as though he wants to strangle Phelps, but is paralyzed. Instead he releases his grip on Phelps's coat and just sort of twitches and eye-bulges at random.)

**PHELPS:** (_brushes off his lapels._) **I** may not be universally liked at this school, but at least people know that I'm trying to help the students **succeed**. No one in God's name knows why **you** linger about.

(_With that, he leaves._)

(_Fade-out. Fade-in to: _)

SCENE 2 (_Greg's art classroom_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Helen standing at her usual table, tying wire to a wooden base. Greg saunters up to her, arms folded, and looks at what she's doing with bemusement.)

**GREG:** Helen, don't tell me you've already finished "The Naked Inferno." (_shakes his head._) You really **are** a whirlwind.

**HELEN:** Finished? (_chuckles._) Oh, I'm nowhere **near** finished with that. I've just put it aside for a while because my husband and I are going to be working on a project **together**. We decided last night.

**GREG:** (_surprised_) Oh... that's nice. Nothing like two people forging a bond through combined creative energy.

**HELEN:** (_pleased_) That's **exactly** what I was thinking.

**GREG:** (_somewhat subdued_) Yes, well... I hope you do get around to finishing your other piece. You seemed to enjoy working on it so much. (_smiles._) And how often do we **really** enjoy our work, huh?

**HELEN:** (_pleasure fading a little_) Right. (Bt. That reminds her of something, and she gets a thoughtful look on her face.) Greg, before you go...

**GREG:** Mmm-hmm?

**HELEN:** (_lowering her eyes slightly, sotto voce_) Do you remember when I said I'd answer your questions when I was in the "right" mood? (Pauses to think, obviously trying to sort through a lot of complicated emotions.) Look, do **not** think that what I'm going to tell you means **anything**. (_chuckles uneasily, speaks rapidly in her "I'm-on-it" tone._) **Everyone** has a bad week; it's just a part of life. And I **certainly** don't view a bad week -- or three or four -- as **any** cause for alarm. If anything I look upon it as an opportunity to **attack** the problem, which really **isn't** a problem, and find a solution that will make **everything** work out for the bet--

**GREG:** Helen, Helen... (_smiles._) Just say what's on your mind, okay?

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** (_cheeks reddening_) Oh... I didn't **realize**... (_rolls her eyes._) All right, all right. I've been feeling a little tired at work lately. (_insistent._) **Nothing** that can't be overcome by good attitude, I'm sure.

**GREG:** (_nodding_) Right, you've said that.

**HELEN:** I thought it was just fatigue from the big McCarthy case, but... um when it didn't go away, I started to think there could be another explanation. (smiles uneasily, as though she's trying to make it easier to say things she's almost too afraid to admit.) Maybe...

**JAKE:** (_off screen, forced-cheerful_) I'm **back**, honey! Did you miss me??

(He appears on screen in jeans and an old T-shirt, carrying a bucketful of clay and some of the old junk which he promptly dumps on the table in a mood-shattering clatter. Then, after grimacing at Greg for a moment, he grabs Helen and proceeds to plant an Al-and-Tipper-Gore kiss on her lips. Helen finally pulls away, looking both embarrassed and aroused, and giggles uneasily at Greg. Cut to wide shot. Many members of the class are watching with bemused expressions. Cut to shot of Jane, who's decided to stay this week, in the corner. She cocks a brow, watches with interest. Resume shot of Helen, Jake, and Greg.)

**GREG:** (_shaking his head with bemusement_) I'll leave you two alone. If you need me, just whistle. (_leaves._)

**JAKE:** Thanks but no thanks, pal! We'll do just fine on our own! (_turns to Helen, jazzed up._) **Okay**, honey, I'm ready to dive in! What do we do first?? (_claps a couple of times._)

**HELEN:** Well I thought that we could discuss it.

**JAKE:** Okay.

(A long, slightly awkward silence follows, much like the one they experienced in "Antisocial Climbers" when they tried to communicate.)

**HELEN:** Or **I** have a few ideas. (_gestures at the base and wire._) As you can see, I've already gotten us started.

(Jake nods, then reaches for one of his junk items. Helen shakes her head, points to the clay. Jake gets a contrite look on his face, and reaches for the clay to mold it on the frame, as Helen directs. Helen starts to do the same.)

**JAKE:** (_most eager, appealing tone_) Wow, look at us! Sculpting together... isn't that **cool**?? We **never** do this at home! (_Bt_) So are we communicating yet?

**HELEN:** We're starting to. (_regards him with a pleased expression._) Well I suppose I could tell you about how work is going. (Pauses momentarily, wondering whether to give him the "sunny" scenario, or the more troubled one she was about to give Greg.) It's not an easy thing for me to discuss, but I suppose I'll have to face it sooner or later...

(Jake nods silently, unaware that his eyes are glazing over. He is soon met by a glare from his wife.)

**JAKE:** What??

**HELEN:** (_resentful_) You're not interested. You've got that bored look on your face again.

**JAKE:** (_defensive_) I do **not**! I'm **always** happy to hear what case you've won or... um, how you're too busy to talk 'cause you need to focus on winning other cases. (_chuckles uneasily._) So who'd you beat today, honey??

(Helen looks at him probingly for a moment or two, as if trying to determine how he would treat the news which she was already so reluctant to tell Greg. Finally she withdraws perceptively, forces a smile.)

**HELEN:** I wasn't in court today, actually.

(Jake looks at her for a second, waiting to see if she'll offer more. When she doesn't, he gets back to sculpting.)

**HELEN:** (_probing the clay, infusing herself with new friendliness_) So how was **your** day??

**JAKE:** Great! Just great! (_Bt. gets a dark look on his face._) **Except** for that guy who cut me off on the **interstate** on my way to work. Boy, wasn't **he** a little **punk**! Thought it was **perfectly** fine to almost get me KILLED just so he could go ten miles **faster**! Goddamn it, **where's** a cop when you NEED one?! Oh sure, they only come out when **I** --!

(Helen stares at him wearily, sees that he has entered his own reality. After a couple of attempts to bring him out of it, she sighs and keeps working on the sculpture. Fade-out.)

(Fade-in to close-up shot of the sculpture, toward the end of class. It's very strange looking, sort of lopsided with junk objects around the fringes. Cut to shot of Jane standing near Greg, looking at it from a slight distance.)

**JANE:** I've got a pretty expansive range of tastes. I can appreciate the eccentric, twisted minds who photographed their body parts and put them on display... or who expected us to see genius in the way they can paint canvases a single color. But **that** (_wrinkles her nose._) is bad.

**GREG:** (_solemnly_) All art has a purpose, Jane.

**JANE:** Well then the purpose of that one must be to say: "I'm on my last legs. Please, **please** put me out of my misery."

(Greg shakes his head and frowns at the piece off screen. Cut to shot of Helen and Jake, both looking tired out and cross, as though it's been a **long** three hours.)

**HELEN:** (_irritated_) **Dammit** Jake, don't pile so much on your side. You're **ruining** it.

**JAKE:** (_whiny, irritated_) Ruining **what**?? I don't even know what it's supposed to be!

**HELEN:** For the **last** time, I told you --

(Just then a fellow student casually walks up and looks at Jake's side of the sculpture, having not caught the bickering.)

**MAN:** Hmm, I like where you're going with this.

**JAKE:** (_pleased_) **Thanks**!

**HELEN:** Oh **who** asked YOU?! (The student takes one look at her and bolts. Helen turns to Jake and groans.) Why don't we work on this some more at **home**??

(_Fade-out. Fade-in to: _)

SCENE 3 (_Lawndale High, montage_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to frontal close-up of DeMartino, stomping down the hallway, head bent forward, teeth bared, eye bulging. His usual walking style.)

(Cut to shot of the hallway as seen from his POV, the camera moving wherever his eyes move. Up ahead, students who have been casually talking get deer-in-headlights looks as he approaches, and scurry off in all directions. One of the students we recognize as Stacy. She bursts into tears and whimpers as she realizes she doesn't have a place to hide. The camera lingers on her, then returns to the hallway.)

**DeMARTINO:** (_VO_) MrrrRRRRRRRRR... spoiled **brats**, every one...

(Just then a paper airplane shoots out of nowhere and the screen goes black momentarily.)

**DeMARTINO:** GAHHHHHHHHHH! (_indicating he's been hit in the eye._)

(He swerves around, and we see Kevin standing against his locker, looking goofy and proud, while Brittany leans on his shoulder.)

**KEVIN:** Hey Mr. **D**! How'd ya like my paper airplane? (_As the camera zooms in, his face gets a panicked look._) Mr. D??

**DeMARTINO:** (_VO_) ARRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHH!

(Kevin jumps out of the way moments before the camera crashes into the locker, causing everything to swirls around and momentarily go out of focus.)

**BRITTANY:** (_off screen_) Run, Kevvy! RUN!!!

(The camera regains focus, turns upright, and begins shooting down the hallway as DeMartino chases Kevin, who can be seen a distance away, running for dear life. The camera doesn't pause for the random student that walks out of the classroom, and only shakes a little as DeMartino bumps roughly into each one. Papers and notebooks fly up and briefly block our view of the hallway.)

**STUDENTS:** (_off screen, angry_) Hey, **watch** it!

(As the last paper flutters away, we see that DeMartino has nearly caught up to Kevin, who is scrambling to open the double doors to the outside. As Kevin runs out onto the lawn, we see a large hand reach on screen, yank his collar, and send him tumbling to the ground. Pan over and zoom in on Kevin's neck, linger for several seconds, as DeMartino's enraged grunting grows louder. Just then: )

**O'NEILL:** (_freaked_) **Anthony**!

(Cut to wide shot. DeMartino, who's preparing to enact the same violence that got him put in the mental institution [as noted in "The Daria Database"], straightens up from his crouched position and looks off screen. Pan over to show the open window of the teacher's lounge, where O'Neill and now several other teachers are looking out at him.)

**O'NEILL:** Violence is never the answer!

**BARCH:** (_sarcastic_) Well it's business as **usual**, I see.

**DeFOE:** (_shakes her head_) To think he could have been a **great** man.

(Barch and DeFoe turn and head away from the window. Cut to shot of DeMartino. His unexpected audience has taken some wind out of his sails. He gets a look on his face like he wants to protest, which quickly turns to frustration as he realizes it won't do him any good. Just then he looks and notices Kevin has fled, which causes him to start pounding the ground in frustration.)

(Cut to the men's bathroom a short time later. DeMartino stumbles in, covered with dirt, his hair in disarray because of the papers flying into him. He walks up to the sinks and looks into the mirror. Pan over to show his reflection. As Phelps suggested by his "can't look himself in the mirror" remark, DeMartino groans loudly when he sees it.)

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 4 (_Morgendorffer house, Friday evening_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of a casually-dressed Helen walking down the basement stairs, on her way down to where the sculpture is. She gets a surprised look on her face as she reaches the bottom. Pan over to show the sculpture she and Jake were working on, now with several pieces of junk twisted over it, forming an unusual tapestry. Helen walks over to it and eyes it with a strange expression, as if wondering whether pixies had worked on it since the last art class.)

**HELEN:** What the...? (_fingering it._) Jake?

**JAKE:** (_off screen, excited tone_) Hey honey, what d' you **think**?! (Cut to shot of him running down the stairs and bounding up to Helen, pointing to the sculpture with delight.) While you were still at the office, I just got **inspired**, and before I knew it, I was putting stuff together! (_gesticulates wildly._) Boy, **now** I understand why you like your art class so much! I swear this image just **popped** into my head about how the piece should look, and how all these separate parts fit **together**, and oh **man** I'm **telling** you, I got so wired up, I felt like I was back in the Sixties and on... you **know**...

(His voice takes on a low Elvis tone during these last few words, and he pulls Helen to him in an embrace. Helen lays her head on his shoulder, wearing an expression of genuine pleasure for Jake.)

**HELEN:** Oh Jakey, I love it when you're like this.

**JAKE:** (_purry_) So do **I**...

**HELEN:** But--um... (A vague look of unease crosses her face, and you can tell she'd rather **not** spoil the moment by saying what's on her mind.) I wish you had waited until you'd consulted me. We're supposed to be working on this project **together**, remember?

**JAKE:** (_excitement fading_) Oh... I know I was supposed to wait 'til you got home. But your sculptures are so, er, **original**, I didn't think you'd mind. (_hopeful expression._) You couldn't work around it?

**HELEN:** (_trying to stay upbeat_) Um... of course. I'll be fine.

(Pause. She and Jake both look at the sculpture, and then Jake looks at Helen. Without another word, he starts removing some of the objects he'd added, until Helen puts up a hand for him to stop. She wears a grateful, yet apologetic expression, for she realizes that her unspoken request has dampened the mood, lessening the chance for meaningful communication. As she and Jake prepare to work on the sculpture some more, she pauses to think of ways she can restore it.)

**HELEN:** (_donning her smock_) Honey, I've been thinking. During the last class, I wasn't very on the level with you.

(Jake, who's been looking for a pair of pliers on a high shelf, freezes on the stepladder he's standing on.)

**JAKE:** "On the level"?? (_trying to stay calm_) Um--er, what do you mean??

**HELEN:** I mean **here** I've been wanting us to communicate more as a couple, and I didn't even give you a **chance** to respond to the mixed-up feelings I've been having lately.

(Jake hops/falls off of the stepladder, his eyes wide, suddenly feeling as though Helen is going to admit what he hasn't wanted to hear.)

**JAKE:** (_voice verging on panic_) Honey-honey, whatever it is, it'll be **okay**! Jakey's sorry for everything he's done or everything you **think** I might've done! I'll make everything better from now on, I **promise**! (_nervous rambling._) No toilet seat covers up, no reading the paper over an open flame --

**HELEN:** (_mystified by his behavior_) Oh **honestly** Jakey, you don't need to be **everything** to me; just listen. (_sighs._) I'm just not **used** to admitting my feelings in this way. It's not how I was brought up so it doesn't feel right.

**JAKE:** (_eyes wider and more panicked_) Oh **God**, I should **think** so!

**HELEN:** (_looking at him a bit strangely_) But I was talking to Greg, and **he** was the one who really urged me to --

**JAKE:** (_face darkening into a scowl_) **Greg**! Of **course**!! Dammit, I don't want to hear about that BASTARD!

**HELEN:** (_gets a look of absolute astonishment_) But I **wasn't** talking about him. I was talking about --

**JAKE:** Greg, **Greg**, GREG!! That's ALL I've been hearing about lately! I know how you always talk to **him**!

**HELEN:** (_face reddening_) Well that's why I'm talking to **you**. You're my **husband**, I don't want to keep things from y--

**JAKE:** (_covers his eyes with his hands._) I don't wanna HEAR anything more! JUST DON'T TELL ME!!

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** (_cool tone_) Don't tell you that I've been having a lousy month at work?

**JAKE:** (_uncovering his eyes_) Huh??

(_Helen sighs._)

**HELEN:** (_looks embarrassed to be admitting this_) I haven't been, um, as **enthusiastic** about my job as I usually am. I think I might be in some sort of rut.

**JAKE:** **Oh**. (_He suddenly laughs loudly with relief._) Is **that** all?? (_He races over to embrace his wife._)

**HELEN:** (_trace of annoyance_) What do you mean "is that all"?

**JAKE:** (_putting his arms around her_) Oh nothing!

**HELEN:** (_resting her head on his shoulder_) Well I just regret having acted as though I lacked **confidence** that you'd understand what I was going through. And I'm sorry that I've been telling Greg things I should be telling **you**.

**JAKE:** (_happy_) Hey, it's all right! Everything'll work out fine! (_pulls back so he can look at Helen._) I mean you're the **lawyer**. Law is what you do, and you're **good** at it!

**HELEN:** Oh, well thank you.

**JAKE:** No one argues better than **you** do! No one works longer hours or later nights! (_doesn't notice when Helen's face starts to lose some of its glow._) I mean heck, (_chuckles with a tinge of resentment._) you made it pretty clear years ago that your job and you are one and the **same**, and you'll be bouncing back in no time because... well, what other choice do you have? Especially with the kids going to college and the mortgage -- oh good GOD (_is quickly consumed by the horror of being steeped in debt._)

(Beat. Helen pulls back a little more so that Jake no longer has his arms around her.)

**HELEN:** Thank you, sweetheart. You're right. That's who I am -- the lawyer.

(She pats her husband's shoulder with affection, but it's obvious what Jake said wasn't what she wanted to hear.)

**END OF ACT TWO**

[Shot of Jake running up to Helen and Greg, followed by shot of DeMartino grabbing Phelps by the lapels, followed by shot of Kevin running away in fear for his life, followed by shot of Jake talking excitedly to Helen in the basement.]

You are now entering commercial **HELL**. Please keep your seat belt securely fastened. You are about to see some of the lamest commercials put on television.

Now here is a **truly** hellish commercial...

1 BLACK.

NARRATOR Daria Morgendorffer never had a pleasant life. But what she didn't realize was how much worse was the prospect of death.

Cue the scary music.

2 INT. DARIA AND JANE'S APARTMENT, DARIA'S BEDROOM.

DARIA (_played by Jennifer Love Hewitt_) is in bed, her face showing fear.

3 PAN TO SHOW: A MIRROR.

QUINN (_played by Keri Russell_), looking as if she's a walking corpse, dirty and dressed in rags, floats on the other side of the mirror, her fingertips against the glass. Behind QUINN can be seen the flames of Hell.

4 CUT TO: INT. BEAVIS'S BEDROOM.

The bedroom is in total disarray. SMILEY (_a slasher-killer in a smiley-face mask_) hits BEAVIS (_played by Ian Ziering_) in the stomach, knocking him to the ground.

5 EXT. LAWNDALE GRAVEYARD-NIGHT.

At the grave of TOMMY SHERMAN, MONIQUE (_played by Laura Prepon_), BRITTANY (_played by Melissa Joan Hart_), ANDREA (_played by Rose McGowan_), and QUINN sit around a pentagram and much magical apparatus, holding hands and chanting.

6 CUT TO: BLACK

SUPER: DON'T GO OUT AT NIGHT

7 CUT TO: EXT. THE DUMPSTER BEHIND A GOOD TIME CHINESE RESTAURANT.

Many people dressed as killers from horror movies are assembled. Someone dressed as Ghost Face (_from the _Scream_ movies_) drops a struggling QUINN into the dumpster.

8 CUT TO: BLACK.

SUPER: DON'T RUN IN HIGH HEELS

9 INT. HADDON HALL.

As SMILEY approaches her, HEATHER (_played by Selma Blair_), careless, tumbles over a banister from the fourth floor to the third floor.

10 CUT TO: BLACK.

SUPER: DON'T MOCK THE RULES

11 CUT TO: INT. MOESCHBERGER DORMITORY, TRENT AND JESSE'S DORM ROOM.

TAYLOR, a cat, sits on a bed, playing with a ball of yarn. JESSE(_played by Leonardo DiCaprio_) enters his dorm room, just returning from the showers, with only a towel around his waist. He is whistling something. He opens the mirrored door of the medicine cabinet to get some hair gel, and when he closes it, SMILEY can be seen in the reflection, and he/she does not look happy.

12 CUT TO: BLACK.

SUPER: AND ABOVE ALL ELSE

13 INT. HOSPITAL, HALLWAY.

QUINN, half-dressed and a big bruise on her face, runs out of a Hospital room.

14 CUT TO: BLACK.

SUPER: STAY AWAY FROM

15 CUT TO: HALLWAY.

SANDI (_played by Denise Richards_), with only a towel wrapped around her to hide her nakedness, and holding FLUFFY, a cat, slowly spins. We can see SMILEY emerging from the darkness behind her with a raised knife. SANDI screams and throws FLUFFY in SMILEY's face.

16 CUT TO: BLACK.

SUPER: THE MISERY CHICK

17 CUT TO: INT. COFFEE SHOP.

DARIA and TRENT (_played by Jakob Dylan_) are in a coffee shop. No one else is present. Daria is on the phone. SMILEY suddenly bursts though the front door wielding a hunting knife. DARIA screams.

18 CUT TO: BLACK

SUPER: DARIA 2: THE CURSE OF THE MISERY CHICK

SUPER: DECEMBER 2000

You are now leaving commercial **HELL**. Aren't you happy you survived?

## 

AN UNEASY MARRIAGE

* * *

**ACT THREE**

SCENE 1 (_a junkyard, some distance outside of Lawndale, a weekend_)

(Shot of piles upon piles of junk piled up to the sky -- couches, spring mattresses, broken clocks and blenders, old tires, etc. Through the middle, dressed in old clothes, we see DeMartino and Jake plunging through. DeMartino leads, using a stick to push aside the stray junk like an explorer on an expedition through the jungle. Jake follows behind timidly, eyeing the piles around him.)

**JAKE:** Gee, um, when I suggested we do a Guys Day Out... I sort of thought we might go **bowling**, or something...

**DeMARTINO:** (_with a slightly sadistic smirk_) You don't think we could "rap" properly HERE, Jake my man?

**JAKE:** (_trying to sound enthused_) Um, well sure we could. (eyes some dark objects that are wiggling out of a hole in an old coffee table.) Gah -- **rats**! (_He cowers, then sees DeMartino looking at him._) Um, I mean: pretty damn **cool**.

**DeMARTINO:** (_turning away from him, with satisfaction_) This is POOR man's paradise! (_takes a deep breath, hacks a couple of times._) Where I go to get me a spare TV or a chest of drawers or a DISCO ball. (_Pauses to grip his stick with both hands, like a baseball bat._) It's ALSO a place where I can release **pent**-up aggresSION without being dragged off to the INSANE asylum. (_whacks it hard against an object too far gone to be missed._) Like THAT! (Jake cowers again at the sheer ferocity of the blow. DeMartino eyes him with wicked amusement.) Care to TRY??

**JAKE:** Uh... sure. (He grabs an old broomstick hesitantly from a junk pile, then gives it a hesitant whack, as if worried more dark objects will scamper out. When the pile merely falls to the ground with a clatter, Jake gets an excited look on his face.) Hey... this isn't so bad. (_He walks up to another pile and whacks it hard._) It's even kind of **fun**! (_goes over to another pile._) Ha-HA: take **that** Dad, you old BASTARD!! (_whacks it hard, then starts beating up on the individual objects._)

**DeMARTINO:** (_with satisfaction_) **Now** you've got it. (_does his own whacking._) Take THAT, you tea-drinking, caviar-eating NUMBSKULL!!

**JAKE:** (_really getting into it_) Take THAT Greg! And you, too, Eric!! I'm as much of a man as YOU are!!

**DeMARTINO:** And here's another WHACK for having shoes that cost more'n my HOUSE!

**JAKE:** **No** one's gonna push me out into the cold! NOT WITHOUT A FIGHT!

(He starts whacking so recklessly and with such energy, DeMartino pauses to watch with amazement. Finally he comes over and shakes Jake so hard, he finally drops the broomstick.)

**DeMARTINO:** Just be careful to destroy only the CRAPPY junk. Leave the **quality** stuff alone.

**JAKE:** (_apologetic_) Oh... of course. (He glances down to look at the damage he's done, then notices all of the shiny, twisted objects on the ground.) Hey yeah: I couldn't destroy **this** stuff. It would make a great addition to my sculpture!

(DeMartino's eye bulges significantly at his remark; obviously he had not expected Jake to truly **like** the junk yard. Finally he groans and shakes his head.)

**DeMARTINO:** You are a very STRANGE man, I have to say. When I suggested this outing, a part of me HOPED you'd say no. **Figured** your suburban upper class LEXUS-driving sensibilities would be **offended**.

**JAKE:** Oh, but they **are**.

**DeMARTINO:** But you came ANYWAY. Which seriously makes me consider your SANITY, as that **must** mean you came to be with ME.

**JAKE:** Wh-what's wrong with that??

**DeMARTINO:** BECAUSE everyone else either **hates** or pities me. The fact that you **don't** means that you are either a complete IDIOT, or you have the tolerance of a DEAD person. So which is it?

**JAKE:** (_almost apologetic_) Well gee... I don't know. I mean maybe it's because you're the **one** guy I've met in our crappy town who reminds me of **me**.

**DeMARTINO:** (_still skeptical_) Did YOU by chance grow up with a selfish FLOOZY mother and a selfish BASTARD father who walked out on your family when you were TEN, leaving you with UNSPEAKABLE RAGE??!

**JAKE:** Uh, not really.

**DeMARTINO:** (_not hearing him_) **Then** survive nearly getting your ASS blown off in Nam, only to marry some COCKTAIL waitress for six MONTHS and watch her drain you of your PIDDLING savings to go across country with your only **kid** to be a SOAP star! **Forcing** you to be the CAREtaker of pampered **rich** BRATS day in and day out in **order** to break EVEN??!

**JAKE:** Hmm, no.

**DeMARTINO:** (_grunting_) Which is why I get a little DEFENSIVE when I see people have had an easier time than me. Like that **preppy** PHELPS.

**JAKE:** (_with sympathy_) **Yeah**. I may not've had the same **crap** as you had growing up, but I **did** have crap, and it's still with me to this day. (_As he speaks, he starts picking up junk pieces._) Everyone acts like you're just s'posed to **shrug** it off, **don't** they??

**DeMARTINO:** Do they EVER.

**JAKE:** (_picking up more pieces, angry falsetto_) "**Forget** it, that's not who you are **now**, quit whining." (puts the junk pieces in a pile, lays his jacket down on the ground and starts piling them in.) They don't get that you **can't** just let it go! It's **there**, cluttering up your **mind**! (_voice takes on an overly-dramatic edge._) Rotting INSIDE you, making everyday life a **struggle**!

**DeMARTINO:** (_grudgingly impressed_) And HOW.

**JAKE:** (_tying up the sleeves of his coat to make a bundle_) 'Til all you can do hope that **some** day, **somehow** you'll get your head together enough to know how to **build** your way out of it. (hoists the junk bundle onto his back, then stumbles backward a little -- the bundle is heavier than expected.)

**DeMARTINO:** AMEN to that. (_hint of a smirk._) Y'know Jake old PAL, you may be RIGHT about us being alike.

**JAKE:** Thanks! (_cheeks glowing._) Gosh, I don't hear that too often.

**DeMARTINO:** (_grumbling_) So I suppose **I** should build MY way out by focusing on being a **namby**-PAMBY goody TWO shoes at the **school**, lest I give Phelps the satisFACTION of seeing me get FIRED.

**JAKE:** Yeah, sure. (_Bt_) Or what about **revenge**? Find something about 'im that would make him **look** bad, and threaten to **expose** him if he ever suggests **you** should get the axe. (_Bt., hesitant_) Only don't let him know that was **my** idea. My kid's been getting help from him in math...

(_Beat. DeMartino's faintly sadistic smirk widens._)

**DeMARTINO:** Risky... time-consuming... disHONEST... I **love** it.

**JAKE:** Wow, you **do**?? (_grins at his good fortune -- he's on a roll today._) Geez, I wish I could sound this good when I'm talking to my wife.

**DeMARTINO:** (_eye bulging_) MORE trouble in paradise?

**JAKE:** Well I've been keeping her away from Greg for the past few weeks now. Funny thing is, even though I don't think he's a threat anymore, things **still** don't feel quite right. (_face gets a bit glum._) The more time Helen and I spend together, the **less** we say anything. The more she gets mad at me.

**DeMARTINO:** Well now that you've got her where you WANT her, maybe you could CONVINCE her to **quit** that damn class so things can go back to **normal**.

**JAKE:** Yeah, I probably could! (_Bt_) Except I'm not sure I want to now. I'm kind of starting to get into it...

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 2 (_Greg's art class, following week_)

(Shot of the community center. Cut to shot of Greg watching something off screen, his brow knitted and a hand on his temple. Cut to shot of Helen and Jake, at work on a sculpture, possibly the same one they had already started. It has now grown to be **very** odd-looking: ill-formed, lop-sided, looking on the verge of collapse. It has been crammed with so many odds and ends, it's actually caused a rupture in part of the piece. Helen continues to work on smoothing around the sides, putting in the odd ripple here and there, yet her fatigued expression is telling. Jake, meanwhile, continues to add junk pieces to the framework, but mostly on his side, for Helen keeps giving him cross looks whenever he starts applying some to the other side. He looks as though he **wants** to be having fun, but is tentative instead. A strained silence hangs in the air above them. Finally:)

**HELEN:** **Dammit**, Jake!

**JAKE:** (_whiny fatigued_) What??

**HELEN:** (_almost too tired to say it_) Why can't you just work with the **clay**?? Why do you have to keep piling all that (_wrinkles her nose at the rusted objects from the junk yard._) **garbage** on top of it??

**JAKE:** But Helen, it's **not** garbage. Look how **cool** some of this stuff is! (takes a pair of broken goggles and puts them over his eyes. A trail of ants starts to make his way down his wrist, which Helen spies.)

**HELEN:** (_repulsed_) It's **one** thing to put a **few** decorative objects around the side of the structure --

**JAKE:** (_desperate, whiny_) But Helen **look**! See how all these different things fit together like they were **meant** for each other?? It kind of puts life into perspective, doesn't it??

**HELEN:** Not from where **I'm** standing. If you ask me, those **things** are just covering over what's at the heart of the structure, which is the **clay**! God, you act as though you're **afraid** of it.

(Meanwhile, several students have gathered round to observe the quickly escalating argument, which seems to be about more than just the choice of medium.)

**JAKE:** (_defensive_) I'm **not**! What do you like so much about the **damn** clay anyway?!

**HELEN:** **Dammit**, when we agreed to work on this sculpture --

**JAKE:** Well then I don't wanna work on this **stupid** thing anymore!

(Helen is stung by his words. She's used to Jake throwing the occasional hissy fit at home, but had assumed they'd be on better terms in art class. Still, she tries to keep a positive spin on things.)

**HELEN:** All... right. **Fine**. Then maybe we could try... (_Bt., frowns_) Jake, what are you doing??

(Jake has already set up another wooden base and is starting to put his junk creation together, like Legos.)

**HELEN:** I **thought** we agreed we were going to be working in this class **together**.

**JAKE:** (_looking at her curiously_) But I meant that one project. I didn't mean the whole damn **class**.

**HELEN:** (_very irritated_) Now Jake, I **specifically** remember we said --

**JAKE:** No, **you** said! You've been telling me what to do this whole time and I'm **sick** of it!

(He moves his base over a little more and works on it defiantly, his back turned to Helen a little.)

**HELEN:** (_outraged and hurt_) Oh yes, it's **my** fault! How could I have been so **blind**?! (_to an invisible person._) I'm The Lawyer, so of COURSE I'm cold-blooded, nasty, and completely **domineering**! And I'll **never** be any other way!! (_watches Jake at work, her face falling a little, and adds softly._) At least you seem to think so.

(She watches a few seconds longer, then sighs and walks slowly over to the supply room to get new materials. Before entering the room, she turns her head back in Jake's direction. Cut to shot of him from her POV: a small group of students continue to observe him with interest. Jake, seeing the audience, starts getting more into it and acting like a showman. He holds each piece up and pretends it's something else, and makes a joke about it, before trying to figure out how it fits in place. Resume shot of Helen. As she watches, her face takes on a look of wonder and sadness. She doesn't see Greg coming up behind her.)

**HELEN:** (_muttering_) He'll make an **idiot** of himself, I just know it.

**GREG:** So let him make an idiot of himself. It's how he'll learn.

**HELEN:** Oh Greg! **Hello**. (She turns to him with her usual cheery "Everything's-super-duper" smile.) Why I haven't seen you at **all** since the beginning of class! What have you been up to?? (Yet one more look at Greg and she realizes he knows what happened, so there's no use pretending. Her smile fades.)

**GREG:** (_touching her arm lightly_) So you two don't work on this project together. There's always the next one.

**HELEN:** I suppose. (_Pause. frustrated, quiet._) But you don't understand... this was supposed to be our chance for **communication**. Away from the pressures of home and... **everything**. (_chokes these last few words out._) Now there aren't any more excuses.

(Beat. Seeing how down Helen looks, Greg reaches over and puts his hands on her shoulders.)

**GREG:** Helen, if I recall, you started going to this class for a different reason, didn't you? To expand yourself? (Pause. Helen glances at his hands on her shoulders, but makes no effort to remove them. She raises a brow and nods vaguely.) To enjoy yourself?

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** (_sighing, nodding_) Right.

**GREG:** And if you don't mind my saying so: you haven't seemed happy for a long time.

**HELEN:** (_half-smiling, touched he was paying attention_) Maybe so. (_In her more assertive, confident tone._) Well I'm **sure** everything will work itself out. It **always** does.

**GREG:** Yep.

(Helen looks at him as he removes his hands from her shoulders, trying to get a read on him to see if she can tell more. Finally she chuckles hard.)

**HELEN:** (_smiling, rolling her eyes_) Although it's funny. Nothing quite seems to want to fall into place the way it **used** to.

**GREG:** Oh?

**HELEN:** I... (For one moment she looks away, then she looks back at Greg and laughs a little, as if trying to make light of everything.)

**GREG:** (_gently_) Telling me's not going to make it any worse, remember?

**HELEN:** (_rolls her eyes_) Hmph... that's the same thing I tell my girls. Who'd've thought my **own** advice would fly up and hit me in the face?? (_Pause. She lowers her eyes and speaks in a very low voice._) I, um, lost a case yesterday.

(This obviously pains her, so for a few moments she doesn't speak, and Greg doesn't press.)

**HELEN:** (_disgusted tone_) It's not that I've never **lost** before. I've just (_bitter chuckle._) never lost this **badly** before. I don't know what it means. (_Then, hastily:_) Not that I **won't** figure it out. I'm sure I just need to put in that **extra** burst of effort and I'll **blow** the opposing side away next time. This **wasn't** a setback, it was a **wake-up** call: I'll work on my delivery, my strategy for locating the witnesses, my...

(Greg nods silently. Helen looks at him again, her words dying. A rueful smile spreads across her lips.)

**HELEN:** Damn it. I liked it when I believed I had life under control.

(Cut to shot of Jake. He's paused in his sculpting and is now looking at Helen and Greg off screen. His face takes on a stunned, disquieted look.)

**JAKE:** (_panicked VO_) Dammit, **why** did I have to get mad at her like that?! Why couldn't I have just pretended to **like** the stupid clay?! She pulled away just like I **knew** she would, and that Greg moved **right** in on her!

**DeMARTINO:** (_VO_) So did you finally decide to POUND 'im into the dirt??

**JAKE:** (_VO_) You **bet** I did!

(Jake gets an angry, determined scowl on his face and makes a fist. He does a practice punch, then another, taking a step forward. Then on his third practice punch, he accidentally gets his hand stuck in a large piece of pipe that he was using as part of his junk pile.)

**JAKE:** Or at least I **would've** if I hadn't gotten my good hand caught.

(Irately, Jake flings his arm up and down in the air, trying to shake the pipe loose. He then tries pulling it off, which doesn't help. He looks around for other people to help him, but seeing his angry expression, the other students keep their distance. Finally, after a couple of times banging on the table, Jake lets his arm go limp. He looks back at Helen and Greg off screen. Cut to brief shot of them talking silently from his POV. Resume shot of Jake, who gets a defeated expression on his face, slumps over.)

(Cut to shot of him sitting at McGrundy's beside DeMartino, who looks as though he's downed quite a few. Jake sits behind him, nursing a beer, looking gloomy.)

**JAKE:** But it doesn't matter. I've spent weeks in that class and she still likes **him**. Nothing I've done's made her change her mind! (_more miserable._) She likes him better... she's **gotta** like him better. 'Cause what is there about **me** that's better than a guy like him?? I'm just a big **screw-up**. He's a good-looking, sensitive... (_face darkens._) **rotten** JERK!

(_DeMartino burps loudly in response._)

**DeMARTINO:** ExCUSE me. (_wipes his mouth._) Your problems appear to be ESCalating at a rapid rate. Maybe I'M not the person you should talk to about this.

(_Beat_)

**JAKE:** (_nodding slowly with realization_) Yeah. You're right.

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 3 (_Lane residence, later that evening_)

(_Shot of the outside._)

**JANE:** (_off screen VO_) Mr. Morgendorffer, I'm reeeeally not the one you should be talking to about this.

(Cut to shot of Jane leaning against the kitchen counter, phone to her ear. She wears a "Why me??" expression, and every so often, glances behind her at the door.)

**JANE:** I suck in the relationship department -- just ask my boyfriend.

(Split screen showing Jake in a phone booth, where his call couldn't possibly be picked up by a member of his family. He looks panicked.)

**JAKE:** But you **gotta** help me out, Jane-o! You're the only other person I **know** who's been in that class as long as Helen!

**JANE:** (_resigned to help_) Not **every** class, but yeah. And trust me: from what I've seen, her interaction with Greg has been **completely** harmless. Nothing that's ascended to the petting and groping stage.

**JAKE:** AGH!

**JANE:** Whoops -- didn't mean to plant that image in your head. Look, they're **friends**, nothing more.

**JAKE:** (_mildly relieved_) Oh. Okay, then. (_Bt. a little worried._) But what if that friendship **leads** somewhere?!

**JANE:** (_putting a hand to her forehead_) Look, I'm not a psychic, Mr. M-- (_as she's glancing off screen._)

(Cut to wide shot of the Lane kitchen. Daria has just walked through the door and is casually opening the refrigerator door, looking for any sign of edible food.)

**JANE:** (_more anxious_) I **really** have to go now.

**JAKE:** No! Jane, **please**!

(Jane groans, and looks at Daria, who is examining a bottle of unidentifiable liquid, her eyes narrowed.)

**JANE:** I'm telling you, I'm **really** bad at... (She squeezes her eyes shut, caught between a rock and a hard place. Suddenly she gets an idea. After glancing in Daria's direction once more, she says in a hushed tone.) but hey, let me ask Trent. Don't worry, I won't let him know it's you. (_covers the phone with her hand._)

**DARIA:** (_deadpan_) You and Tom exchanging love whispers? (_disdainful expression._) Don't worry: I have better things to do than listen in.

**JANE:** No actually, it's Trent on the phone needing advice. Seems like he's caught in some nasty love triangle where his, um, **girlfriend** is always talking with this **other** guy and acting really comfortable with him, more so than with Trent. Now he's worried his girlfriend and the other guy might hook up. What do you think he should do?

**DARIA:** (_cocking an eyelid_) What makes you think **I'd** know?

**JANE:** Hey, **you're** sensible-minded. Surely you know how to think your way through this crap.

**DARIA:** (_nods, conceding_) Well for starters, just because the woman has another friend doesn't mean the relationship's about to crumble. She's gonna have interests that Trent doesn't have that this other guy might naturally share.

**JANE:** Yeah. (_uncovers the receiver, to Jake_) So she can talk about some stuff with him more easily than with you. No big deal. You can't expect that you'll be **everything** to her, and vice versa.

**DARIA:** Unless, of course, his girlfriend devotes an inordinate amount of time to this guy. Which could mean she instinctively trusts **him** to respect her opinions more than Trent. Which would not be good.

**JAKE:** (_from the receiver_) Does Trent have a cold, or something?

**JANE:** (_cringing, realizing she left the phone uncovered_) Um, yeah. Makes him practically sound like a girl.

**JAKE:** So what'd he say??

**JANE:** That if she's telling him everything, that means a big zero for you in the trust department.

(Cut to shot of Jake in the booth, plunking another quarter into the phone. He nods slowly, a look of depression and panic griping him. Resume shot of Jane and Daria. Jane covers the receiver once again.)

**DARIA:** The exception, of course, is if their whole relationship is mired in routine. They might find a million things wrong with each other, but as long as they're too lazy to break from their daily rituals -- which in Trent's case, is highly likely -- they'll **never** split up. Never.

**JANE:** Wow, really?

**DARIA:** I speak from experience. (_cocks an eyelid._) Just look at my parents.

**JANE:** Um, yeah. (_hushed, into the receiver._) Did you get that? Trent says that if your relationship is based on routine, it's gonna survive no matter what.

(Cut to split screen with Jake. His face immediately lights up. He pumps a fist, then tosses the phone in the air and catches it.)

**JAKE:** Whoo-HOOOOOOO! That's **great** Jane-o! GOD, what a **relief**!

**JANE:** So don't worry about how much or how little talking is going on between those two. You guys will grow old and grey together. (_Bt_) Unless, of course, you had different expectations for your relationship.

**JAKE:** (_joy fading a little_) Wha-what do you mean??

**JANE:** (_shrugging_) Well... if you'd gone in **wanting** it to be based on talking and caring about each other's problems.

**JAKE:** A-and if we did??

**JANE:** (_reassuring, but firm_) Then I think you'd better head back to the drawing board. (_face brightens._) Hey, that wasn't so bad! Maybe I **can** actually handle giving advice on relationships.

**DARIA:** (_off screen, deadpan_) You Venus of Lawndale, you.

**JANE:** So hang in there, Mr. M -- (_catches herself just in time._) Mister. I'm sure things'll work out.

**JAKE:** (_wan enthusiasm_) Okay Jane-o. Thanks again! (_He hangs up the phone._)

(_Cut to full screen. Jake slumps against the side of the booth._)

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 4 (_Greg's art class, early next evening_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Jake standing in the hallway of the community center. The art room door is locked and Jake looks impatient and worried: he had obviously hoped that he'd be able to catch Greg in the midst of one of his classes, and now he might not come at all. Just as he's all but given up hope and starts to leave: )

**GREG:** (_off screen_) Jake?

(Jake swerves around. Greg walks up to him from the other end of the hallway, coffee cup in hand.)

**GREG:** (_friendly, perplexed_) What are you doing here? You're still taking the Tuesday class, aren't you? (_Bt_) Did you need to discuss something?

**JAKE:** (_hate-filled gleam in his eyes_) GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

(Dissolve to a short time later. Jake and Greg are inside the empty classroom. Greg is setting up for his next class, while Jake sits slumped over on a stool, nursing a hand wrapped in ice.)

**JAKE:** (_subdued_) I can't tell you how sorry I am. I didn't even come here to fight with you.

**GREG:** I'd apologize to the maintenance staff instead. They're the ones who'll have to replace the door. (_Jake chuckles with embarrassment._) Believe it or not, Jake, I've been in your shoes before. Jealousy's not an emotion you can keep bottled up for very long.

**JAKE:** You've got **that** right. (_feels an eensy bit more kinship toward his rival._) And so now that I know you're not -- you **know** -- I just wanted to ask when it all started. (_uncomfortable._) What kinds of things do you say to her that make her so happy?

**GREG:** (_sympathetic_) First of all, Jake, I'm sure what Helen sees in me is nothing compared to what she sees in you. Whatever your problems, she obviously loves you. (_Jake reddens with pleasure when he hears this._) As for when we first started talking... well, I'd guess it was back when we were in Amanda Lane's sculpting class. (_He casually strolls around the classroom as he talks._) Helen left an impression on me from the very beginning: the most tense, perfectionistic, time-obsessed woman I'd ever met.

**JAKE:** (_chuckling_) **Yeah**. She's like that at home.

**GREG:** I thought: **here** is a woman with a story to tell.

**JAKE:** She does **that** at home, too. (He laughs as he thinks of the many work-related stories Helen has dished out over the dinner table.)

**GREG:** (_seeming to not be listening_) But you know what really drew me to her? (_stops suddenly and turns to Jake._) Her sculptures.

**JAKE:** (_stunned_) Really? (_He glances with disbelief at a few of them sitting in the corner._)

(Greg beckons him to take a closer look at them. Jake hops off the stool and follows. Cut to close-up of the sculptures as Greg speaks.)

**GREG:** In all the classes I've ever taught, only a handful of students took to sculpting with the intensity that Helen has. It's almost as though it's allowing her to release feelings she's barely **aware** of. (He trances a finger along the surface of the sculpture we recognize as the "giant asparagus.") Look at how much she was able to do with just the clay alone.

(Pan over the most minute details of the sculpture: lines that swirl in every direction, dizzying for the eye to follow, spikes, odd-shaped bumps that at first could be mistaken for a lack of finesse in molding the clay, but upon closer inspection look like large beetles. Cut to shot of Jake, gazing at the sculpture with his mouth partially open, trying to take in the meaning.)

**GREG:** (_shaking his head, faint awe_) Nothing she creates would be at home on your living room coffee table. It's all ugly stuff. Ugly and dark. There is a lot of fear in that woman. A lot of pain and anger that she just doesn't reveal. (_glances at Jake._) Except maybe to those closest to her.

(Jake is dumbfounded for several moments. But when he regains his senses, he chuckles with mild scorn.)

**JAKE:** But how can you tell all that stuff from a bunch of lines?? (_vaguely accusing._) Maybe that's just what you **want** to see, pal! Maybe she didn't mean anything by it at all! She could just be a **lousy** sculptor.

**GREG:** (_vague reproach_) Do you feel like nothing you've sculpted has meaning for you? (_points in the direction of Jake's junk sculpture._)

**JAKE:** (_chuckling, uncomfortable_) Well... um... **no**. It's just some stuff I threw together. (_grudging._) That I spent hours looking for in a junkyard. (_Bt. with more realization._) That I took a lot of trouble with. Heck, I even thought of forgoing my evening newspaper to play around with that thing. (_Bt_) So... **yeah**. I guess it **does** have meaning for me!

**GREG:** You see??

**JAKE:** Yeah! But that **still** doesn't mean all that stuff you see in my wife's sculptures is there. I mean she'd have to be really **sneaky** to keep that anger and stuff a secret from everybody.

**GREG:** Or in denial. It was **that** thought that got me talking to her. (_smiles softly._) She **fascinated** me... she was such an enigma. I just kept thinking: who **is** this woman? What's **driving** her?

**JAKE:** (blinking hard with disbelief that he's talking about Helen, and not sure he likes it) A-and?

**GREG:** (_chuckles a little_) Well at first when we started talking, she'd kind of puff herself up with talk about how **great** she was doing at her job, and how devoted a mother she tried to be. (_Jake nods knowingly._) Until one day I asked her... let me see, what did I ask her?? Oh, right: "So what do you do when you're **not** at your job or with your family?" Said it kind of jokingly -- but it seemed to strike a chord inside of her. (_shrugs._) From that day on, she seemed to open up a little more. Though it's **not** easy for her, I can tell. She still acts as though a bolt of lightning will strike her dead if she admits a little weakness.

**JAKE:** Um, er... yeah.

**GREG:** So that's it. That's my big secret. I ask your wife nosey questions about her life. (_looks a trifle embarrassed._) Though I make sure to keep **enough** of a distance.

**JAKE:** (_confused, frustrated_) Wait a minute, wait **just** a minute! You're telling me **that's** what makes her so happy to be with you?? You ask her about stuff she doesn't want to **talk** about??

(_Beat_)

**GREG:** (_shrugging_) That's the only explanation I can think of.

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 5 (_Lawndale High, at that same time_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of the dimly-lit hallway and the open door of Phelps's classroom. Zoom in slowly.)

**PHELPS:** (_off screen, sounding triumphant_) This is what she's laid out for me...

(Cut to shot of the inside. Phelps sits at his desk gazing at some papers, while a similarly well-dressed man, with whom he seems intimately acquainted, leans over him.)

**PHELPS:** Starting next year, there will be a slow phase-out of Phys Ed, then Economics the following year, then European and American History will be merged into one class. But funding for Mathematics and Computer Science will **increase**. Not to mention security... she seems very big on that for some reason.

**MAN:** (_warmly_) Congratulations, Alfie! That's everything you wanted.

(Phelps smiles. But his smile slowly fades and turns into a dark frown at the sound of shoes tapping across the floor. Pan over to show DeMartino walking in, smirking and clicking off a hand-held tape recorder.)

(Cut to wide shot. Phelps makes a motion to protest, his expression stating, "You can't prove I had anything to do with these decisions!" In reply DeMartino's smirk reads, "I can't prove you **didn't** either." Phelps gets a weak look on his face.)

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 6 (_driving home_)

(Shot of Jake's Lexus traveling down a residential street. Cut to shot of the inside. As Jake drives, he wears a glum, preoccupied expression.)

**JAKE:** (_thought VO_) The **only** explanation he can think of?? No **way**, that doesn't make sense! (He gets a scowl on his face and clutches the steering wheel tighter with his uninjured hand.) Well I can think of **other** reasons she'd act so happy to be with him. (_Some pain gets intermixed with the scowl._) Starting with his bulging **biceps** and working my way up to his **goddamn** wavy hair!

(Cut to shot of the outside. Jake's car is now going much faster than the recommended speed limit. Dogs and children scramble to get out of his way. Resume shot of Jake driving.)

**JAKE:** (_miserable_) I don't think I can go home and face her right now. (_slumps down._) Why'd I have to go into that **bastard's** classroom, anyway?? Why couldn't I've gotten hit by lightning and gone **deaf** before listening in on her conversations with him?? (_slumps down lower._) I wish everything was how it used to be.

(Cut to shot of the outside. Jake's car has just reached the house, where we see Helen's SUV already parked. Cut to shot of Jake. He remains paralyzed in his seat for several seconds, not wanting to get out. Cut to shot of the outside. Finally his car pulls up and parks in the driveway.)

(_Fade-out. Fade-in to: _)

SCENE 7 (_Morgendorffer house, after dinner_)

(Shot of Jake sitting on a kitchen stool in the foreground, holding his "World's Greatest Dad" cup in his left hand because he's concealed his injured right one. He's watching Helen shout into her cell phone to another attorney while sitting at the table.)

**HELEN:** Dammit, do you **honestly** think that just because you've phoned **seven** times already, I'm going to **accept** that offer??! I've **told** you, and I will **spell** it out, if I must --!

(_Cut to close-up of Jake._)

**JAKE:** (_thought VO, sneering imitation of Greg_) "Oh boy, she's an **enigma**. She has deeeep dark issues she's not **sharing**." Well that's sure as hell not what **I** see!

(_Cut to shot of Helen, red-faced and angry._)

**HELEN:** All right, **fine**! O-U-R O-F-F-E-R--!

(_Cut to close-up of Jake._)

**JAKE:** (_thought VO_) She doesn't **act** like she's hiding anything! And if she is, why didn't she ever **tell** me?! So much for her wanting **communication**! (_face more solemn._) Dammit, why did that Greg jerk make me feel like I'm looking at my wife for the first time?

(Cut to wide shot. Helen hangs up the phone decisively and emits a loud groan. Jake instantly gets a nervous look. He opens his mouth slowly, not wanting to ask what's been on his mind, yet feeling he can't hold it in any longer.)

**JAKE:** Um, honey --?

**HELEN:** (_still incensed_) Honest to GOD, he has got to be THE most **moronic** human being in the UNIVERSE! Wasting MY time going BACK and forth, back and FORTH over details that WILL NOT CHANGE!! Well the NEXT time he calls, I'm going to TELL him -- (She glances in Jake's direction, sees that he's cowering. Her harsh tone instantly softens.) Jake, honey, did you want to say something to me?

**JAKE:** (_whimpering_) I can't talk to you when you're like this.

(Helen gets a contrite look on her face, takes a deep breath and exhales slowly.)

**HELEN:** Jakey, I'm sorry. I'm feeling a lot calmer now. What did you want to say?

(Fade-out. Fade-in to close-up of Helen, a short time later. She's gazing downward, wearing that sort of dull expression she had on after getting chewed out in "Psycho Therapy.")

**HELEN:** (_weary, edging on sarcastic_) You know I **suspected** you thought Greg was a rival for my affections. Maybe it was the way you'd act so **livid** whenever I said his name.

(Cut to wide shot. She and Jake are both in the basement, where their chances of being heard are minimal. Helen sits at the base of the steps, hugging her knees, while Jake stands against the wall, a short distance away. At these last words, Jake gets an apologetic look on his face.)

**HELEN:** (_flinging a hand upward in exasperation_) But I gave you the benefit of the doubt, thinking that maybe, just maybe, you **were** more interested in spending time with me than in **competing** with him. (_rolls her eyes._) My mistake: since when have you done **anything** that satisfied someone else's needs above your **own**??

(Jake's head droops a little. He knows that he can't really defend himself against Helen's chastising remarks right now.)

**HELEN:** Well **no**: I was never attracted to Greg in **that** way. (_burst of anger._) And the fact that you would even think I **was** must mean...! (She can't finish what she was saying, it's too loathsome to her. Instead she looks at Jake with an unmistakably hurt expression.)

**JAKE:** (_rushing over and trying to hug her_) Honey, honey! I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry! Jakey's just a **big** idiot, like you said! I was just so scared... I didn't want to **lose** you! But I'll know better from now on, I **promise**!

**HELEN:** (_pulling away from him a little, subdued_) You don't trust me at all, do you?

**JAKE:** (_panicked_) No-no! I **do** trust you! It's **him** I didn't trust! I mean, I mean --

**HELEN:** (_sick of it_) Jake, just **stop**. (_angrier_) Dammit, you never even **once** told me how you felt.

**JAKE:** B-but what would **that** have done?? You just got angry **now** when I told you.

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** I don't know. (_groans softly._) Look, we **obviously** have problems that won't be solved by us shouting at each other down here. We should approach them **constructively**, which means finding a therapist --

**JAKE:** (_whiny_) **Not** another therapist! (_Catches Helen's evil eye._) I mean **yeah**, a therapist! Great idea, sweetheart!

**HELEN:** (_not fooled_) Jake, **can't** you even stick to your **guns** when you're disagreeing with me??

**JAKE:** Yes. No. I don't know. (_gets a mortified look._) Can't we just go upstairs and forget about this??

(_long Pause. Helen just looks at him, her face taking on an ill expression._)

**HELEN:** (_softly, with disbelief_) Things really haven't changed since the weekend of my mother's anniversary party, have they? You're **that** afraid of me.

**JAKE:** NO, honey!

**HELEN:** (_face puckers slightly, but voice remains even-toned_) You still think that I would just **mow** you over if I got angry enough. I'm not your wife (_sharp chuckle._) I'm... some... lawyer **bully** you have to live with.

(Her face puckers a little more. She turns her face to the side so Jake can't see it. Jake watches her, guilty and frustrated, wanting to hug her, but his arms feeling big and clumsy at his sides. At the same time, he feels as though it's not right that he should be blamed for everything. In spite of himself, it comes through in his tone.)

**JAKE:** (_defensive_) Well what d' you **expect** when I never see you any other way?? And **boy** wouldn't I've **liked** to, because maybe then **I** wouldn't feel so DUMB all the time!! Ohhh, but I guess looking weak means you wouldn't always have the upper-**hand** then, wouldn't it? (_Meanwhile Helen has turned around and is watching him expressionlessly._) Or maybe you just expect Jakey to be able to read your **mind** like your wonderful **Greg**!

**HELEN:** (_stunned_) You spoke to Greg about this?

**JAKE:** (_voice taking on a sarcastic edge_) You **bet** I did! He said he's your big **confidante**. That he makes you **happy** by asking you stuff that makes you **miserable**! Boyyy, I wish **I'd** known that a long time ago!

**HELEN:** (_quiet_) So do I.

**JAKE:** Huh??

(Fade-out. Fade-in to continuation of the same scene, only now at some empty cafe, looking on the verge of closing for the night. Having escaped the claustrophobia of the basement, Helen and Jake are seated in a booth at the far corner, sipping coffee. Both look uncomfortable, like they **don't** want to be discussing this, but it's beyond their control.)

**HELEN:** (_quiet_) I've always wanted to talk with you that way. But somehow... (_glances down briefly to stir in some cream._) Maybe I was always too busy, or... (_looks at Jake, irritation enters her tone._) **maybe** it's because you never so much as **hinted** that you were capable of listening.

(While she's been speaking, Jake has been playing with his cup because he feels so uncomfortable. Helen assumes he's not paying attention.)

**HELEN:** (_groaning_) Well we'll discuss all that in therapy, I suppose.

(Jake nods slowly and continues to fiddle with his cup, until a thought hits him. He looks up, his face brightening.)

**JAKE:** **Wait**, honey! I just realized something!

**HELEN:** (_startled_) What??

**JAKE:** I **can** listen! I've been doing it with Tony DeMartino for the past month!

**HELEN:** The girls' history teacher?? (_disbelief._) But he's **so**...

**JAKE:** (_dismissing_) Aw, he's just like that at first. But before I knew it, he was telling me all his problems and I was helping him! (_proud expression._) **Boy**, you should have seen me! (_looks at Helen, who responds to his enthusiasm with a faint smile._) And if I can get **that** close to somebody in just a **month**, sure I could start listening to **you**, who I've been married to for **years**! Right??

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** Um, right. (nods slowly, as though she still doesn't know what to make of it, speaks in a soft tone.) One **month**, hmm? That's... very impressive.

**JAKE:** Yeah! So don't you see -- (_puts his hand over hers._) now that I **know** what you want me to do, and I know how to **do** what you want me to do, we shouldn't have any more problems! (_voice deepens in a near- Elvis tone._) We could pretend like things are the way they were when we **first** got married.

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** Yes. I suppose we could. (_a little uncomfortable._) Although I'm not so sure confiding in your drinking buddy is **comparable** to sharing to your wife. Our issues are probably much more complex and, um, difficult to get a handle on. (sees Jake's enthusiasm waning a tad, responds with a faint, encouraging smile.) But it **is** a step in the right direction.

**JAKE:** It **is**?? That's great! (_Impulsively, he stands up and hugs her across the table._) So... is all forgiven??

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** All's forgiven.

(She leans her head against his chest and closes her eyes. The expression on her face suggests that she would **like** to be happy, but that something is preventing her.)

(_fade-out. fade-in to: _)

SCENE 8 (_Greg's art class, the next evening_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Greg walking through the door, pausing to examine its hinges, which are still busted due to the door's encounter with Jake's fist. He then turns to look inside the darkened room, his face registering surprise. Cut to shot of the rack where the sculptures are normally on display. We see Helen, looking as though she's come from work, putting one of her sculptures on a trolley, where a couple of others already sit. She acts as though she's expected to be alone. Yet when she sees Greg, she looks surprised for only an instant before a hardened no-nonsense expression slides into place. Greg walks toward her, but somehow senses he should not approach her all the way.)

**GREG:** (_jokingly_) You really can't get enough of my teaching, can you? First your husband comes before class starts, now you.

**HELEN:** (_cool_) Oh, I think I **have** had quite enough. (_Bt_) I'm quitting. I only came to pick up my sculptures.

**GREG:** (_smile fading from his face_) That's too bad. Helen, it's not because of --

**HELEN:** (_pausing to look him straight in the eye_) **No**. Greg. (_Her tone of voice tells him she knows about his encounter with Jake._) I just feel that this class has outlived its **usefulness**; I really **should** invest my free time in making my marriage as **strong** as it can possibly be. (_She turns to lift another sculpture, her eyes carefully averted._) There were... too many distractions here. People... bright lights... too much **stress**.

**GREG:** You'll still continue to sculpt on your own, though, won't you?

(_Beat_)

**HELEN:** I doubt it.

(Greg's face takes on an unreadable expression, while Helen moves over to pick up another sculpture. Her eye catches the junk sculpture Jake was working on, and she pauses to study it for several seconds.)

**HELEN:** (_murmuring to herself_) This is coming along nicely. Quite nicely. (Just then, a light seems to die inside of her, and her shoulders perceptively slump.)

**GREG:** Is something wrong?

**HELEN:** No. (She remains with her back turned for several seconds, determined to stick by her pledge to stop talking to Greg at the expense of her husband. But given the weight of what's she been feeling since the night before, and the fact that Greg has always been a good confidante, she realizes she can't hold it in.) Yes.

(She turns around to face Greg, her eyes still tilted toward the sculpture. Greg sits on a stool nearby.)

**HELEN:** (_quiet_) When Jake and I first got married, he was still this... scared little boy who needed to be protected. I thought I could help him grow up. But as years passed, nothing I did seemed to work. I kept thinking, though, that if I tried a little harder, attended this seminar or found that therapist or (_brief smile._) spent time with him in a sculpting class... he would learn. (_Pause_) But somewhere along the way, I must have lost touch with him. Otherwise it wouldn't have just hit me that he **has** learned. (_face saddens._) Or maybe he always knew.

**GREG:** What makes you say that?

**HELEN:** (_shrugging_) In the twenty-four years we've been together, he's barely shown the maturity to stay **awake** during a conversation with **me**, yet he can become the confidante of some cold-hearted **friend** of his in no time at all.

**GREG:** So?

**HELEN:** So you don't see a **problem**??

**GREG:** (_smiling_) It sounds to me like you're comparing two very different things. You can't equate a friendship, like what **he** has or what you and I have had, with a marriage.

**HELEN:** (smiling a little in return, relieved to have her own thoughts echoed back at her) I suppose not. (_straightens up._) I mean **really**, I don't know why that hit me so hard when Jake first told me. I should just be **happy** he has a friend -- and I **am**. And I should just accept the fact that our marriage is in nothing more than one of those little slumps that **all** long relationships sink into.

**GREG:** (_nodding_) Sure.

**HELEN:** (_emboldened_) We'll work our way out of it. We've already started to. (She's about to resume her activities, when again she looks at Jake's statue. Her smile fades.) But it's not just **recently** that Jake and I stopped com... (_lowers her eyes, shakes her head slowly with pained realization._) We haven't... we **never**... we...

**GREG:** (_coming closer, soothing_) Shhhh, it's all right.

**HELEN:** (_sounding shaken_) Which is why when Jake told me about what a **great** friend he was to this man, I started thinking: maybe he's **always** been mature enough to connect to other people. (_Bt_) I'm just not one of them.

**GREG:** Now Helen, sweetheart, don't talk that way. You and your husband love each other and that is final.

**HELEN:** (_miserable_) I know. I don't **want** to think about it, but I can't help it.

(Almost as soon as she utters these words, Greg is beside her, offering his arms in a hug. Helen doesn't hesitate to sink against him and grip him tightly, as though she's trying to prevent him, or **something** from slipping away. Their embrace tightens. After several seconds pass, Helen impulsively lifts her head and finds her lips touching Greg's. For several more seconds they linger in the kiss, until the magnitude of their action hits Helen at full force. She pulls away from Greg with one forceful movement, and after exchanging stunned looks with him, gets an expression on her face that suggests she would like to punch his lights out. But as the significance of their kiss continues to seep in, she realizes she was as much to blame for the betrayal of their friendship as he was. An expression of horror grips her face, and she quickly exits the room, leaving her sculptures behind.)

(_cut to: _)

SCENE 9 (_McGrundy's, at that same time_)

(Shot of the outside. Cut to close-up of DeMartino, looking triumphant. Zoom out to show him sitting at the bar besides Jake. He leans over and clicks Jake's mug hard with his own, forcing liquid to spill out of the top of both.)

**DeMARTINO:** So in exchange for my SILENCE, Phelps agreed to **refuse** some of the perks that were COMING to him, and to argue voCIFEROUSLY in my defense if **ever** my name got a bad rap in the teacher's lounge. (_cackles._) Those students and faculty whom I supposedly HATE don't realize the **favor** I just did them.

**JAKE:** Way to go, big guy! That's just great. And things are **finally** starting to go right for me and Helen.

**DeMARTINO:** Ah, **good**. (_slaps Jake on the back before taking a swig of beer._)

**JAKE:** (_quiet, more to himself_) I think we're gonna be okay.

**** THE END [roll the credits......................... end song: "Shout" by Tears for Fears]

COMMENTARY

There were no clever puns on other titles **this** time around, but in the "Daria" tradition, this title has a double meaning. I've seen the words "an uneasy marriage" refer to the combination of two very different things, and that could be applied to Jake and Helen.

Those two have different philosophies, different baggage, and different approaches, all of which were brought out in the ways each approached sculpting. Coming into this fanfic, I wanted to do two things: 

  1. find an angle having to do with their marriage that hadn't been covered yet, and 
  2. suggest that even though Helen and Jake love each other, that is not necessarily enough to sustain a marriage.

Both tasks posed something of a challenge, #1 more than #2. There have been Helen-and-Jake-fight-and-reconcile fics before. Some have even centered around terrible betrayals of trust, such as Helen getting pregnant with Daria and Quinn by men other than Jake. I tried desperately not to tread in their territory **too** much (_though some was inevitable_) in order to cover the core issue of their **interaction** as a couple, which hasn't really been touched upon. Many fanfics seem to skip over it in order to emphasize that Helen and Jake **love** each other, that love conquers all, and that they'll try harder to make their marriage work. But again, is that enough?

It's not if you go by the Daria definition of what a relationship should be, as noted in the TV movie, "Is It Fall Yet?" She states that the key to knowing whether someone is right for you is if (_approx._) "you share the same interests, if you can hold a conversation with that person for more than two minutes without getting bored." That's how she comes to realize (_after dumping him_) that Tom deserves another chance. Now I never intended for "An Uneasy Marriage" to specifically address Daria's statement (_as I had the fic planned out **long** ago_), but I **do** happen to be of the same mind. And my opinion is that if Helen and Jake view relationships the way Daria does, theirs is in serious danger of crashing and burning.

Which is a fact that they -- or at least Jake -- do not seem too aware of on the show. And I don't know if the writers will ever enlighten them. I can't tell if they intended "Psycho Therapy" to be Helen's wake-up call that she had to be a more attentive spouse, or the hanky-panky in "Fire!" and "Is It Fall Yet?" to mean that Helen and Jake really **do** have a strong marriage. Perhaps neither of them has the high expectations for their relationship that Daria has. Except... then why would Helen invest so much time looking for therapists and couples retreats? She has said frequently that she wishes the "spice" were back in the marriage, yet that has little to do with "spice" -- i.e. romance and sexual energy. And if those **were** all she wanted, then she should have been content with the hanky-panky in the cabin in "Antisocial Climbers." But given her absolute insistence that she and Jake bond in that episode (_"No whistling! We're supposed to be bonding!"_), it's obvious that she **does** want more substance in her relationship.

Jake, on the other hand, doesn't seem to focus on this as much. I get the sense that he thinks of Helen as sexual partner on the one hand, stern mother/Mad Dog figure on the other, and nothing in between. When he focuses on communication, it tends to run along the lines of Helen never listens to **him**, Helen's never there for **him**, never considering that those activities should be mutual. Gah -- my opinion of him really nosedived in Season Four. He went from being a well-meaning, clueless man who reserved his angry rants for his dead father and unlucky motorists to an even **more** self-absorbed and clueless man with a **mean** streak. That mean streak, most likely brought about by Jake's accumulating resentment, was often aimed at Helen. While not surprised, I **did** find it disturbing. Especially because during Jake's nasty barb-throwing, he showed an unprecedented level of awareness, suggesting he is **not** the poor, helpless overgrown boy we all think him to be, that he **could** be more active and assertive in his relationship if he **chose**. But since he **hasn't**, a healthy portion of the blame for communication failure lies in his lap.

I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, though. Maybe he really **could** show that he cared about Helen **and** their relationship if he felt both were in danger of slipping away. Maybe his love for his wife **is** about three times greater than his resentment towards her. That's what I tried to bring across in "An Uneasy Marriage." I also played up the idea that Jake really puts Helen on a pedestal, insofar as he sees her as someone stronger and more self-assured than he is. That's why he gets so resentful of her authority -- because he really believes Helen has complete command over her actions and over each situation. This image of her is so ingrained in his mind, he has trouble stepping back from it and seeing her as a regular person with weaknesses -- until Greg points them out.

In fact, another thing I wanted to show in this fic is how **little** Helen and Jake know each other as people. Helen hears Jake whine so much about his father that she has him typed as a child in need of protection; so when she sees that he won't fall apart on his own, it's as much a shock to her system as it is to Jake when he realizes there's a side to Helen that he never knew. As for Helen, this vulnerable side is one that even **she** scarcely knows, as she has rarely been one for self-examination. On the show, she has admitted weakness **two** times, both in Season Four. In "Psycho Therapy," she says, "Everybody hates me," as though it's a confirmation of her worst fears. In "Dye! Dye! My Darling," she admits that "We only tell ourselves [life is under control] to keep our sanity" (_or something like that_). Yet in both cases, Helen never seems to zero in on any worries that **she**, as a person, is not good enough. The "Psycho Therapy" line struck me more as a feeling that while she was **doing** all she could, people wanted too much from her. That seemed like just a variation of the guilt she's **always** shown with regard to her relationship with work and family.

I probe the issue of Helen's vulnerability in much greater detail in DWU #19. One thing I'll make issue of is how this reluctance to probe her insecurities resembles Daria's. That doesn't surprise me; they are mother and daughter after all. Furthermore, I find it almost comical that Helen, on the show, can chastise Daria for wearing a "mask" that hides her true self, yet be completely unconscious of her own. If Helen **didn't** wear a social mask, why would she be so concerned about social appearances, and have an unhealthy fear of aging?? As Greg said, there's something **there** that she's just not aware of, and I hope the show addresses it. If not, I will.

**But anyway, to sum up my goals for this fanfic:** Helen and Jake come to realize that they do not know each other, and the possible solution to their problems is that they dismantle their preconceptions and start over. But that in itself causes problems. Why did they form these preconceptions in the first place, and maintain them for so many years? What did they gain from the preconceptions, and what would they lose if they got rid of them? What does it mean that Jake could slide so easily into a friendship with DeMartino, and Helen with Greg? Does it mean that maybe their brightest sides DO shine when they are with **other** people, suggesting that quite possibly, they are **not** meant for each other?? Those are the concerns that hit Helen in the face during the last scene with Greg, causing her almost perennial "I'm **on** it" optimism to finally crumble. And they aren't concerns that will be resolved easily.

Anyway, this fanfic was probably one of the most convoluted I've written -- and I thought "Charge of the Math Brigade" was bad. ; > I'm not even sure that what I wanted to come across came across. As I said earlier, I tried desperately to avoid examining ground that had already been covered, not to mention settling on the **usual** cliches for why Helen and Jake can't get along. I.e: Helen's too controlling and if she were only less so, everything would be hunky-dory. Or: Jake is a clueless moron who can't do anything right. The truth is almost always more complicated. Yet I'm not sure I was able to successfully **transcend** those cliches. I kept looking for some great hidden explanation for their marriage problems, but the they-don't-see- each-other-as-people notion was about all I could come up with. And **please**: don't insult me by claiming all I wrote was a Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus parable. ; >

I also had problems with the DeMartino plot line. I didn't want it to be **too** obtrusive, yet I didn't want it to fizzle out, either. I'm not sure I resolved it in the best way it **could** be resolved. I wanted to give DeMartino a little humanity (after his psycho turn in Season Four) and perhaps a little insight into his character. **And** I wanted to show how Phelps fit in with all of the teachers, giving him an eensy bit more breadth without, heehee, revealing too much of his background. I kept thinking the plot line should have been cut (this damn fic is already too big); in fact, I'm seriously considering putting out an **abridged** version of this fic, along with the unabridged version, just to clear my conscience.

The DeMartino and Jake bonding scenes were the toughest to write. They reminded me of the difficulties I had with Jane and Sandi in "Outvoted." Since both characters have been exaggerated to ridiculous proportions in the past couple of seasons, my challenge was to have them interact in a human way and **still** keep them in character. I tried to not make anything too forced, but kept feeling that I was, anyway.

Heh, I also keep wondering how people will respond to Helen's kiss. I hope it doesn't cause anyone to lose respect for her. You probably saw it coming a mile away, didn't you? ; >

**One last thing:** I said at the beginning that this fic takes place as though "Fire!," "Dye! Dye! My Darling," and "Is It Fall Yet?" have not yet occurred. Now does that mean you're supposed to see those episodes as proof that the conflict I've opened up has been resolved? In one word: NO. This fanfic addresses their lack of relationship **there** as much as in the eps that came before it. Although would you believe I originally thought I would have this one out **before** the Season Four premiere? Makes me wonder how different it would have been. It certainly wouldn't have had the tongue-in-cheek allusion to Daria and Jane's relationship troubles.

Now let me mention my reasons for why I decided to not portray the Daria/Tom relationship, at least for now. First of all, I've been remarkably blessed that the show has allowed my fanfic continuum to keep pace with it, in spite of the fact that the DWU takes place in an alternate universe. When I started writing back during the "mini-drought" of Season Three, I never guessed that the show would support some of my conjectures: Daria getting over Trent, Quinn being smart and not knowing it, et cetera. But it could have just as easily been the opposite: maybe Daria and Trent would have hooked up, and Quinn would have spiraled downhill. Also, Season Three managed to develop some of the characters' relationships without actually **altering** the status quo, thus allowing for me to seem ahead of the curve because I **did** alter the status quo.

But that can't last forever, especially when you don't produce fanfics as quickly. I suppose **eventually**, the show was destined to catch up and surpass me, which it did with the Daria/Tom development. After a lot of deliberation, I chose to not ram it into my continuum because:

  1. I had not worked my way up to it at **all** in previous fanfics, aside from the suggestion that Tom will help Daria by shedding light on Mr. Phelps. Believe it or not, some fans of my writing never even **watch** the show, so for them to read "Daria suddenly has a boyfriend" would be a complete jolt to their system. I prefer to maintain internal continuity, introduce the idea more gradually.

* Since I came up with plot lines for at least the first 
20 DWUs loooooong ago, I don't really want to change them. In my next DWU, Daria experiences a subtle attraction to the editor of the underground newspaper -- a situation that would either have to be squelched, or hopelessly complicated, due to Daria already having a boyfriend. I'd just as soon stick to the original script. But Tom **does** make a significant appearance in this one.

* I was unhappy with the way Daria and Tom got together -- you barely saw the period of time where they went from being rivals to potential lovers (_what -- "I Loathe a Parade" was supposed to suffice??_). Considering that the show is built around our watching Daria's walls crumble, I felt that I'd missed out on something important. Therefore, I aim to correct it in my continuum by, for now, just showing Daria and Tom's budding friendship. That in itself is an important step in Daria's development.

I can imagine all of the newly converted Daria/Tom 'shippers weeping at the thought of not getting to read about their romance... if you haven't **already** tossed down this fic in disgust because it's NOT about Daria and Tom!  Aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!! ; > That said, I want to make it clear that I am not one of the infamous Anti-Tommers who believes that Tom is evil and that he will corrupt Daria. I think Tom is a good character with potential, who, unfortunately, got thrust into a controversial situation before the majority of fans could grow to like him as his own character. Now, no matter what he does, he will bear the faint mark of one who "came out of nowhere and nearly wrecked Daria's friendship with Jane." I also think he'll ultimately be a positive character... but that he would have been **more** positive had he remained Jane's boyfriend. I guess I'm one of the few who feels Jane needs more help being drawn out of her shell than Daria, and who wishes her and Tom's relationship hadn't been given such shabby treatment in Season Four. (I'm also one of the few who finds fault with Tom because he seems **too** ideal, not because he's flawed.)

Where was I? Oh right: so in conclusion, remember that the Driven Wild Universe is an ALTERNATE universe, where things happen that have **no** parallel in the show -- such as Quinn getting glasses and becoming Fashion Club President, and Sandi and Jodie developing a rivalry of sorts. These eps try to portray these situations in the most **realistic** manner possible, but, even though some of them seem like they could be regular episodes, that does not mean they should be **treated** as regular episodes.

Hmm, that belonged in Points of Interest, didn't it? Aw well, now on to...

****Points of Interest****

**Greg:** He's probably one of my more sketchily drawn characters, with none of the personality quirks we see in Barry Bukowski or Alfred Phelps. That's partially intentional. As for what will happen with him, you'll find out in DWU #19...

**Lawndale Community Center:** The map in "The Daria Diaries" does not list a community center... but what's a town without one? Even if that town **is** a giant strip mall like Lawndale...

**A real art class:** As I may have mentioned in "Breaking the Mold," I have attended several art classes, from life drawing to sculpting. The general pattern is for the teacher to give a demonstration in the beginning, then suggest how it might be applied to a particular project, then pretty much leave you on your own. Maybe intensive, advanced art classes are more tightly-controlled, but these are community oriented basic classes. Therefore, they're more or less places you go to use the supplies, and not much else. ; >

"Booze-clouded conversations": Several fanfics have portrayed Jake and DeMartino as near buddies, gathering together semi-regularly to get drunk at McGrundy's pub. I assume this was inspired by their bonding scene in "The Daria Hunter," as there has been no equivalent pub scene on the show. Still, it seemed like a good starting point at which to build a friendship, so I declined to ignore it. Furthermore, none of the buddy bar scenes in fanfic ever really showed **how** Jake and DeMartino developed a warm enough rapport to tell each other some quite personal things. This fanfic aimed to show how, though I'm not sure if I've succeeded, because as I pointed out above, Jake and DeMartino are **hard** characters to write.

"Uncle Anthony": As most of you know, DeMartino came off as a hero to the day camp children in "Is It Fall Yet?" His grouchy, psychotic behavior empowered them, and the good will they showed him spilled over into the following school year, as demonstrated by DeMartino's pleasure when Quinn got the answer correct. My feeling is that this newfound positive outlook will not last... if DeMartino is DeMartino. This fanfic sketched the most likely image of DeMartino's relationship to the school and to his colleagues.

As for talk about DeMartino having a kid whom he never sees and an ex-wife, those were my inventions. DeMartino just seems like the type who would have gone through a messy divorce.

**Jane calling Helen by her first name:** That's one thing I wish I could have gone into more in this fic. I will an eensy bit more in DWU #19. Yet it doesn't surprise me that Jane might feel comfortable enough with Helen to be on a first name basis, given the way they kinda-sorta bonded in "Breaking the Mold." And I expect it will happen on the show, since Daria's parents have gradually gotten closer to Jane and Trent, as shown by their interaction in "Lane Miserables." At the same time, I don't ever suspect that they'll become bosom buddies. (I still get the giggles when I recall the dinner table scene in LM, when Jane tried to avoid conversation with Helen by reading the milk carton.) Also, Jane calling Helen by her first name was meant to show that Helen, in a different setting, can be a different person.

Now it's time once again for ****THE MYSTERIES OF****

Here's a mystery I've been wanting to address for a long time: why the time in between my fanfics keeps getting longer. My first eleven I was able to write on average about 2.5 weeks apart. Then they started coming a month apart, then 2-4 months apart.

The reasons? Well the summer I started writing fanfic, I enjoyed some unusual circumstances. I worked a part time job a few hours a day, and had the rest of the time to just write. Plus back then, fanfic was so new and exciting to me, I had a shitload of adrenaline running through my system. My unconscious kept urging me to write and write some more, causing me to neglect my friends and miss several new releases, like "South Park" or "The Blair Witch Project," and probably not study for the GREs as well as I ought to.

I knew this hermit-like behavior wouldn't last, and a part of me was relieved. My final college semester came along, forcing me to devote my energy to my two thesis papers in order to graduate. (Still, astoundingly enough, I was able to get out four fanfics during that time.) Then after college I started working full time, and I started having to devote more thought to my goals (_lousy real life_).

Plus more fandom duties started to hit me. I became a message board moderator, frequented IRC, started proofreading other people's work, wrote several essays, and finally got somewhat burnt out on writing the same sort of near-canon fanfic I'd been writing for close to a year, so I wrote something totally different: "Abruptly Amy (_The Spinoff That Never Was_)." That something different led me to launch a project for which I've been writing recently, which explains the gap between "Charge of the Math Brigade" and this fic. Oh, and there's also my web site, born sometime in late July 2000. It may be small, but what little there is took a **lot** of effort to put together.

**Then** there's the fact that my fanfics keep getting more elaborate. I have to build from all of my previous fics and start working toward a climax (since the continuum is **supposed** to wrap up after 22 episodes).

Now that doesn't mean I'm burning out and won't write any more. **However**, because my real life is about to take a stressful and interesting turn, I might have to write **much** slower. That bothers me, as I've always gotten a lot of mileage being "ahead of the curve," and I'd hate to think that the show might beat me to revelatory punches. I just have to hope that the show won't cover **everything** I've been covering (though I'm a little shaken after "Psycho Therapy" and Quinn's brain turn in "Is It Fall Yet?"). I do intend to finish all 22 episodes. Just don't expect it to be soon. ; >

****Oops!****

**Hmmm, something that's been bothering me from "Erin the Head":** I meant to show that success from the Gupty marriage therapy show had gone to their heads and turned them corrupt, making them do things -- like endorse products -- that they once would have scorned. However, I don't think I showed it well **enough**; and what's more, their appearance in "I Loathe a Parade" made it seem as though I'd written them out of character. : P

Oh, and a Digimon fan complained about the way I'd bashed Digimon in a commercial. Okay, I'll apologize for calling them Pokemon knock-offs (they actually came first) but not for them being cheap, irritating marketing gimmicks, which they are...

****Acknowledgements****

Aaron and Barry Adelman deserve a round of applause for their clever Daria 2 commercial. Yes, THEY were the ones who created it, **not** I, just to make things clear. I nearly ROTF when I read it for the first time, as it felt SO much like a promo for "Scream."

****Shameless Plugs****

If anyone would like to join my mailing list, e-mail me at wild_kl@hotmail.com. Although for some odd reason, U.C. Berkeley has not yet canceled my scar@uclink4.berkeley.edu address... in spite of the fact that I've been a graduate for over half a year. So you can e-mail me there, too.

Also, come browse through my web site, The Contrarian's Corner: home to my fanfic collection in HTML and Text, other specialized fanfic collections, essays, and my non-Daria related rants. The URL is

[www.stas.net/wildone/index.html][1]

Thanks for sticking around to read my longest postscript EVER, and thanks for reading!

This fanfic is the property of Kara Wild, copyright September 2000. All rights reserved. 

   [1]: http://www.stas.net/wildone/index.html



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